


Ser Kingslayer's Squire

by ClassicGamer102



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:38:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicGamer102/pseuds/ClassicGamer102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bran has wanted to be a knight of the Kingsguard since he was very young, when he is twelve years old King Robert Baratheon visits and with him comes Ser Jaime Lannister, Bran's Idol. But when Bran gets his dream of squiring under the great knight it is hardly under ideal conditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaime, Ned, Bran

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Readers! Welcome to this story. For those few of you who have read Heir to Winterfell I wish to inform you that the next chapter will be posted by weeks end. But the idea for this story struck me and I rather wanted to write it. So from now on between chapters of Heir to Winterfell there will be a chapter of this story. 
> 
> Generally I'm hoping to have more chapters of this than the other story, as well as having them be shorter in length than the huge things recent chapters are becoming.
> 
> Well without further ado here is your story, do enjoy.
> 
> As a side note, all characters look as they do in the show, the exceptions being Bran who is sort of a Stark-Tully hybrid, and Rickon who is Tully colored. Why? I don't know I just felt like it.

"He saw us!" Cersei screams while he grasps the boy's collar, holding him so he won't fall.

"It's alright, it's alright." He assures the boy, slowly recognizing him. It was the Stark boy, he had Stark's hair and Lady Tully's deep blue eyes, it was like he was the perfect half breed.

"He! Saw! Us!" Cersei shouts again.

"I heard you the first time." Jaime looks out the window and sees how high off the ground they are. "Quite the little climber aren't you, boy? How old are you?"

The boy grasped Jaime's hand, "I'm.... I'm twelve." He stutters out, voice shaking with fear. Jaime turns to Cersei and she's still staring at the boy with a mix of rage and fear. Jaime moved his hand up to the Stark child's neck squeezing just enough for it to hurt without any bruising.

"You aren't going to tell anyone want you saw here right, boy?" And the boy, Jaime thinks his name is Brynden or Benjen or Brandon yes that was it, Brandon, is shaking his head so violently that Jaime thinks his neck will snap. "Good, and I'm sure that you know what exactly will happen to you if you do." With that Jaime lets the boy go and watches him climb down the tower.

When the boy is almost at the bottom Cersei yells at him, "What is wrong with you?! He'll go and tell the Starks! Robert will know!" Jaime resists rolling his eyes at her.

"Relax dear sister, I have a plan."

 

* * *

 

 

"Lord Stark!" Ned sighs as he recognizes the voice as the damned Kingslayer. He turns to the man and does everything he can to not scowl at the man. "I'm glad I caught you," The Lannister says with a large smile and false sincerity, "I saw your son, Brandon, training in the yard this morning, and he's very impressive. With your consent, I would like to have him as one of my squires." Ned looks at the man feeling all the contempt in the world, he doesn't believe a word the man says.

"Ser Jaime, Bran is only twelve years old, he's a bit young wouldn't you agree?" Ned asks in an attempt to make the dishonorable man leave.

"Oh, I know that he is young. But Lord Stark he has so much potential, the sooner I can bring him under my tutelage the sooner he can reach that potential." The Lannister explains easily, and Ned is almost certain that the man is lying now. Bran was under no circumstance bad, in fact he was a better swordsman than many of Ser Rodrik's squires, and while he still struggled with archery, Theon had been helping him recently and the improvement was noticeable. Ned didn't doubt for a moment that Bran would one day be a great knight, but as of now Ned saw no reason for a member of the Kingsguard to take notice.

Despite his trepidation, a lingering doubt stuck in Ned's mind. What if by some bizarre set of circumstances the Kingslayer was being sincere? The Stark lord would loathe to have his son spending much time with any Lannister, he knew that Bran greatly admired Ser Jaime. If the boy found out that he'd had the chance to squire for his idol and missed it he would be devastated. With a sigh the Northern lord gave Jaime Lannister his permission.

 

* * *

 

 

When Bran was called into his father's solar he was rather confused. He hadn't done anything wrong as of late, he'd been taken good care of his direwolf, even if he had failed to think of a name for the pup. The only bad thing he'd done was........ he didn't want to think about that. He was lucky to have gotten away from that with his life.

So when his father told him that Ser Jaime had offered to let Bran squire for him the boy is justifiably shocked. He just stood before his father with a surprised look upon his face.

"Is there something the matter Bran?" His father asks, his voice mirroring Bran's own confusion. Taking a breath Bran shook his head quickly.

"No, father. It's just I'm surprised. I didn't expect to be a squire for a couple more years and I didn't think I'd get to be one of Ser Jaime's squires." He explained faking a small laugh.

His father nodded sagely, "I too was surprised by the offer. But apparently you have impressed him during his stay here." Lord Stark gave him a serious look dawning his lord's face. "I trust that you understand all of the responsibility that comes with this position." Bran nodded slowly. "If you don't feel ready for it I can tell Ser Jaime that you are unable."

"NO!" Bran shouts and then flushs, "Er... I mean please don't, my lord." Eddard gives him a strange look before nodding once more.

"Very well." The proverbial mask was removed and Bran's father smiles at him. "I know that I have made my feelings for Ser Jaime clear during the course of your life Bran, but he is one of the most distinguished knights in the Seven Kingdoms, I want you to know that your mother and I are incredibly proud of you." Bran has to force himself to smile for his father, because he knows that Jaime Lannister doesn't have any interest in his abilities as a squire. The Knight only wants Bran so that he can be sure the boy doesn't tell his secret. 

When Bran leaves his father's solar he finds himself running to his room and retching a few times once he is sure no one is able to see or hear.  Bran supposes that he might find the irony funny, that his dream has come true only for it to feel more like trap. But all the young Stark can think about is what in the Seven Hells he is meant to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if anyone is wondering, I looked up the common ages for Squires on Wikipedia and it said 14-15, and in the show Willem and Martyn are around those ages so I figured they were pretty reliable ages to work with.


	2. Bran, Robb, Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I need a bit more time for the next Heir to Winterfell chapter and I apologize for not keeping to my deadline. But I hope this chapter can come as a sort of compensation.

Bran's day didn't improve after his father gave him the news. His parents decided that in honor of his appointment as Ser Jaime's squire they would hold a private family dinner. It was like whenever his name day rolled around, the cook prepared his favorite foods, served his favorite deserts, the entire family sat at the table including Jon, and under any other circumstance Bran would have loved it. Instead he had to sit at the table and fake a smile and eat food he wasn't hungry for. If he thought that he could've gotten away with it Bran would have faked ill so that he could just stay in his room all night. But he knew that his parents and siblings would have found it strange for him to suddenly take ill and not want a big dinner for himself.

Once the dinner was finally over Bran excused himself to rest for the night. He received a hug and a kiss from his mother, and his older brothers gave his many pats on the back. Arya made a joke about how she should get to be the squire since she was better with a bow and Bran forced himself to laugh. Sansa gave him a short lady like hug and kiss on the cheek.  When he had gone to bed he took Rickon with him, they were sharing a room because of all the guests, and during the walk from the dining hall to their room the younger boy complained about how Bran got to leave Winterfell when Rickon didn't and had to stay and listen to Maestar Luwin's dumb lessons. Bran didn't give any response to his brother's behavior as he got into bed, simply saying goodnight and forcing his body to sleep.

When the day finally came that the Royal Party was leaving Winterfell Bran was no longer able to avoid Ser Jaime as he had done for so long since his assignment o the him. When he found the man it was at the stables. "Good morning, Brandon." The knight greeted in a friendly voice that Bran suspected was fake.

"Good morning Ser." He replied with a small bow, trying to keep his voice from showing how nervous he was. From the eye roll Ser Jaime gave him, Bran guessed that he had failed.

"Come now, Brandon. I'm not going to kill you, I mean you haven't told anyone what you saw, you haven't right?" Bran nodded his head quickly, scared by the loss of the amiable tone in the knight's voice. "Splendid, as long as your silence continues then I will treat you as well as I treat any of my squires." He finished with another falsely kind smile. "Now, prepare my horse." Bran nodded his head and did as he was told as fast as he was able. Always aware of Ser Jaime's eyes on his back as he saddles the horse, and secured the saddle bags. He flinched at the scoff he received when he'd dropped a particularly heavy bag on the ground. Once he was done Ser Jaime inspected Bran's work before nodding. "Not bad, I've seen it done faster, but your new at the job so I'll let it slide." The man seemed to pause in thought before turning to Bran, "What are you doing?" He asked critically.

"I... I didn't kn..know if you needed anything else, Ser." Bran stuttered, only to see the knight roll his eyes.

"No, you're done for now. Go prepare your own horse for the ride."

"Uh... actually, Ser, there was something I needed to ask." The Lannister gave him a curious look, gesturing with his hand for Bran to continue. "My... er, my direwolf. I was wondering if it was alright for my direwolf to come with us?"

Ser Jaime thought for a moment, looking at the pup sat next to Bran, before speaking "Your sisters are bringing their wolves, is that correct?" Bran nodded, Ser Jaime thought for another second before sighing, "I'm afraid not, Brandon. Your responsibilities as my squire will require too much of your time for you to care for your pet. And we wouldn't want the Red Keep to be covered in wolf shit, would we?" Bran shook his head no. "Exactly. Now off with you, I'll want you to ride beside me on the way to King's Landing." Bran nodded and went off to grab his things so he could saddle his horse. Trying to ignore how this already awful situation had become worse.

 

* * *

 

 

Robb stood in his father's solar as he went over all of the young man's responsibilities as Lord of Winterfell. Robb nodded and agreed to all the appropriate statements, he assured his father that he could handle the responsibility and that all would be well while he was in King's Landing.  Once Lord Stark was satisfied with Robb's responses he dismissed him.

When Robb returned to his room, the weight of his new position slowly dawning on him, he found Bran sitting on his bed waiting for him, direwolf in his lap. "Bran? What are you doing here?" He asked, "You should be getting ready for your journey south. "

The younger Stark offered a weak smile in return, "I did, my horse is all set, all of my things are packed. There's just one more thing," Bran paused and looked down at his silver pup. "Ser Jaime says that I can't take Summer with me." Bran explained crestfallen. Robb frowned but before he could offer any sympathy Bran continued, "I was wondering if you could take care of him for me? At least until I'm a knight and can take care of him myself?"

"Of course." Robb said as he sat down next to his little brother, he knew something else was bothering Bran, the boy had been behaving strangely ever since he found out that he was to squire for Ser Jaime, whenever Robb asked him about it though Bran just said that he was nervous. Robb believed him at first, who wouldn't be nervous? Getting to serve under someone you idolized, and someone who was one of the most famous knights in the realm as well. But this was far more than nerves, Robb was sure of it. Yet he couldn't think of what it was that had Bran so bothered, he had raised his concerns to Jon who agreed that something was wrong but also said that if Bran wouldn't come to either of them, or anyone else in the family, then what could they do.

"Thanks, I would've asked Rickon, but his wolf is already so big and wild I think he'll struggle to keep him under control." The joke was weak and so was the laugh Bran gave after it.

"Bran, what's wrong?" Robb asked desperately.

"Nothing's wrong, I told you before I'm just nervous."

"You've been nervous for weeks! You've never been nervous about anything that long."

"Well this is a big deal okay, I'm squiring for the best knight in the Seven Kingdoms."

"But you've known for weeks! Ser Rodrik, Father, all of us have been preparing you for this kind of thing since before you were ten! Why won't you tell me what's really bothering you?"

"Because there's nothing to tell! Why won't you let it go?" Bran cried.

"BECAUSE YOU KEEP LYING TO ME!" Robb shouted and Bran flinched away, his wolf barking at Robb. Robb immediately regretted the action, he'd never yelled at Bran before and now the boy was flinching away from him terrified. "Bran..." But before he could say anything Bran had stood up and started to flee from the room. Robb tried to grab him, tried to say he was sorry, but it was too late.

 

* * *

 

 

 Jon grabbed the saddle for his horse when Robb fell into step with him, his half-brother looked upset. "Jon, did you say goodbye to Bran?" he asked.

"No, Uncle Benjen and I are going the same way as the King's procession during the beginning of the trip. Did you find out what was bothering him?" Robb shook his head.

"I tried to get him to tell me, but I ended up shouting at him and that just made things worse." He explained sadly, "Could you try and talk to him during the ride? Even if he won't tell you what's bothering him, at least tell him I'm sorry."

"Of course." Robb gave Jon a small smile as show of gratitude while Jon saddled his steed.

"I guess the next time I see you, you'll be all in black."

"It was always my color."

"Farewell Snow."

"And you Stark." And with a brief hug, Jon departed from his half-brother unsure of how long it would be till he saw him again. He led his horse to the gates and found his father, Bran, and the girls. Along with the whole of the Royal Party. He walked over to Bran who was giving his horse a last minute look over. When the young boy saw Jon he averted his eyes.

"I'm not upset about anything." Bran announced petulantly. Jon sighed and crouched down to be eye-level with him.

"If you don't want to tell me that's fine. Just know that you can always write me while I'm at The Wall." Bran nodded, looking at Jon for the first time since he'd come over, "Robb told me that he snapped at you earlier. You know that he isn't really mad at you right?"

"Yes." Bran replied solemnly.

"He's just worried about you. I am too," Bran turned away again, Jon let out a sigh. "Bran promise me that you'll tell someone okay? You don't have to do it now, you don't have to tell me or Robb, but please tell someone, Father or your sisters, even Ser Jaime if you want." Jon noticed the way Bran seemed to jump when he'd mentioned the knight, but he didn't make any mention of it. "Alright, that's all I'm going to say about it." Jon gave his brother a soft squeeze of the shoulder before leaving him.

Jon didn't speak another word till the Kingsroad split off and Jon was to go off to the Wall. He road to the front of the train until he was next to Ser Jaime, with Bran close behind. "Ser Jaime, may I speak to my brother for a moment?" The Lannister looked him over for a moment before nodding.

"Very well, don't be too long Brandon." Bran gave a timid nod and rode next to Jon as the Royal Party carried on. Jon was starting to get the feeling that Bran was afraid of the Kingslayer, but he didn't know why. Jon got down off of his horse and Bran did the same.

"I know that we were supposed to go together, but I guess that will have to wait. Come visit once you're a knight, I'll be able to show you around." Jon said with a awkward smile. Saying goodbye shouldn't be this hard, not to Bran, but Jon suspected that part of this was because his brother wouldn't tell him what was wrong. He bent down and pulled young Bran into a hug. "I'll miss you." He murmured.

"I'll miss you too." Came the reply.

"I..." Jon paused and sighed, feeling even more awkward, "I love you, you know that right?" Bran nodded, "If there's ever something you feel like you can't talk about with Father, or the girls, send me a letter okay?" Bran wordlessly nodded once again.

"I... uh. I love you to." Bran replied timidly, but Jon knew the words were sincere. They hugged one last time before mounting there horses and going off to their respective groups.

 

* * *

 

 

Bran is serving Ser Jaime lunch the first time he has to be in the same room as Queen Cersei. The King's Procession had stopped at The Inn at The Crossroads, and Bran was incredibly relieved that so far the journey south has had no incidents. He'd hoped that he could serve Ser Jaime his meals and then be dismissed to his room to clean the knights armor or some other task that would hopefully involve being away from the Lannister. When he and Ser Jaime heard the knock on the door he was of course the one to open it. And when the Queen saw him she scowled and slapped him hard across the face, making the boy stumble back a few steps.

"What are you doing?" Jaime asked as he stood up from his table and crossed the room to stand between them. The Queen stepped around her twin and raised her hand to hit Bran again, only for Ser Jaime to stop her. "Cersei don't." He'd ordered. She turned on him with a scowl.

"Don't? Don't?! Jaime this boy saw us! He should be dead! And instead you're rewarding him by making him your squire?" She asked furiously. Jaime sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I'm not making him my squire as a reward, it's just the best way to keep him under my thumb. If he has to spend the majority of his time with me, then he won't have the time to be blabbing to anyone. " Cersei continued to sneer and walked over to Bran again, Ser Jaime put himself between them once more.

"Why are you defending him?" She demanded.

"Don't you think Stark will notice that his son has bruises on his face when there has been no fight?" Jaime inquired, "Just trust me that I'm going to keep the boy in his place." Bran felt incredibly uncomfortable with the way they talked about him as if he weren't in the room. He felt worse when Queen Cersei sneered at him again.

"Tell him to leave." She said in a low voice, making Ser Jaime smirk and told Bran to do exactly that. He did as he was told, getting a pretty good picture of where exactly this conversation was headed. Feeling sick at the thought Bran left the inn to get some fresh air. When he did he found Sansa walking her direwolf, Lady.

"Hello, Bran. How are you?" She asked in a cheery voice and a smile on her face. He and Sansa had been really close when he was little, Robb and Theon always japed that it was because she looked so much like their mother, but either way she had been the sister who would sing him lullabies or tell him stories when Mother and Old Nan were busy. As Bran got older he and Arya started to gravitate towards each other because of their similar interests, but Sansa was still his big sister who'd always been supportive of him.

"I'm well." Bran lied, returning his sister's smile. He couldn't tell Sansa the truth and even if he could she was so happy about the trip that Bran didn't want to have a hand in spoiling her good mood. Lady came forward and sniffed at Bran's feet as he crouched down and lightly scratched behind the wolf's ear. His smile faded as he thought of Summer.

Sansa seemed to notice because she said, "I'm sorry you couldn't bring Summer with you, but at least you're getting to squire for Ser Jaime." She said her voice barely wavering from it's cheerful tone. Bran forced himself to keep smiling and agreed with his sister.

"Have you seen Arya?" Sansa rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"She went off to play with the butcher's boy. It's so ridiculous, why can't she just...."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry for asking." Bran said, interrupting her before she could go into a rant about their sister, "Do you know where Father is?"

"I think he's with King Robert somewhere. Why? Do you need to talk to him?" She asked, giving Bran a curious look. Bran scratched the part of his face the queen had slapped to conceal any mark that might have formed.

"No, just curious as to where everyone is." Bran started to say something when he heard another voice.

"Good afternoon, my lady." Bran immediately stood up and turned to see Prince Joffrey standing in front of them. "Would you mind if I pulled you away from your brother for a while?" He asked while Bran bowed.

"Of course not, we were done talking weren't we Bran?" Sansa asked, and from her tone Bran knew that it was more of an order than an actual question. 

"Uh, yes we were. Pardon me, your grace." Bran excused himself, going back to the Inn to relax for a while and get a meal.

So many hours later Ser Jaime called for him to serve the knight's dinner. "So Brandon, I have a question for you." The knight said as Bran poured him a cup of wine. "I heard from some of your House's guards that you rather admired me. Why is that?" He asked smugly. Bran places the wine skin down on the side table as he brings his master a meat pie. "I'm waiting." 

"You were the greatest, most famous knight in Westeros. What boy wouldn't look up to you?" Bran admitted in a small voice. Ser Jaime gave him an odd look, as though the answer was surprising.

"What about your father? He hasn't exactly made a secret of his hatred of the dishonorable Kingslayer." Jaime said mockingly.

Bran sighed, "Someone had to kill the Mad King, he'd killed my grandfather and Uncle. Why does it matter who killed him?"

"I swore an oath to serve the King, regardless of his madness." The knight replied seriously.

"King Robert swore an oath of fealty to King Aerys, why is his oath less serious than yours?"

To Bran's surprise Ser Jaime smiled at him,"Have you eaten yet?" The Knight asked suddenly.

"No, Ser. I was going to after you'd dismissed me for the evening." Ser Jaime frowned at him.

"Sit. Are you allowed to drink?" Bran was taken aback by the knights sudden kindness.

"Um, no sir. My father doesn't let us have wine till our thirteenth name day, and even then we are allowed only one glass."

"One glass won't hurt. Consider it repayment." The knight poured Bran a cup of wine and handed it to him. He then chuckled when Bran was surprised by the taste, but it wasn't a cruel chuckle or a mocking one. More of a friendly one. However before the friendliness could continue they were interrupted by the Queen barging into the room.

"Where is Arya?" She asked as she stomped towards Bran.

"Cersei? What's going on?"

"What's going on?" The Queen asked incredulously, "This boys she-wolf sister attacked Joffrey! And now neither she nor her wolf can be found!" Bran's eyes widened at the information. Ser Jaime did the same, turning to Bran.

"Do you have any idea what she's talking about?" He asked seriously. Bran shook his head no, the knight studied him for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Alright. Come on, we'll look for her."

Eventually Arya was found and brought before King Robert to tell her side of the story. She said that Joffrey had attacked her friend as well as her and Nymeria bit Joffrey to defend her. The Queen has Sansa take a side but the older girl pleaded ignorance, saying that she didn't remember. Bran breathes a sigh of relief when it seems that the King is going to let their father handle discipline, but the Queen ordered that Lady be executed for the missing Nymeria. Jory took Sansa and Arya back to their rooms in the Inn while Bran followed Jaime back to his room.

"Do you need anything else, Ser?" Bran asked as he gathered all of the cups and dishes from the Ser Jaime's dinner. The Knight dismissed him, all of the kindness that had begun to show before the crisis now gone. He nodded and took the dishes away. Before going to bed he knocked on his father's door.

"Bran." Lord Stark looks very tired, and Bran thinks that there's some anger on his face as well. "Come in." He instructed. Bran sat down on the edge of his father's bed.

"Did you talk to Sansa?" His father shook his and sighed.

"She won't let me in, she's very upset." He explained, "Are you alright, the Queen or Ser Jaime haven't done anything to you in retaliation?"

"No," Bran paused for a moment, "Ser Jaime is angry, but he just dismissed me for the night." Ned nodded his head and ran a hand down his face. "I'll try and talk to Sansa, if you want to try Arya?" Bran offered and his father accepted.

It took a bit of coaxing but eventually Sansa let Bran into her room. Bran was shocked by just how awful Sansa looked, her eyes all red and puffy. "I'm sorry." He said as he hugged her, not able to think of anything better to say. She cried for a long time and once she was calm enough to speak she asked if he'd stay with her tonight. It was something else that they used to do, when Bran would have a nightmare he'd go and crawl into Sansa's bed for comfort, they'd stopped once she had gotten old enough that their parents said it was improper.

And for Bran thinking about sharing a bed with his sister even when he's fully clothed and had no intention of doing anything but laying there made him think of the Queen and Ser Jaime. He felt sick at the thought and wanted to say no, but when he looked at his weeping sister he couldn't do anything but say yes. She thanked him and gave him a hug so tight he thought that his back might break.

Bran told himself that he would only be there until Sansa fell asleep, but when that happened Sansa had her arm curled around his shoulder tightly and couldn't move because he was afraid of waking her. So Brandon ended up falling asleep in the same bed as Sansa, feeling uncomfortable due to the small size of the bed barely fitting both of them, due to the inability to move for fear of waking her, but Bran was most uncomfortable because he knew that this very situation could have been the beginning of Ser Jaime's "relationship" with his sister, and that thought made Bran want to vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why, but I do imagine that when he was little Bran had a close relationship with Sansa. Of course I have no basis for this theory because they never really interact in the show. So who knows.
> 
> Also with Jaime being briefly kind to Bran, expect a lot of that from them both, despite his knowledge of the Twinscest part of Bran does still admire Jaime and the coming days will both enforce and test those feelings.


	3. Bran, Jaime, Ned

Bran woke before his sister. The sun was barely coming over the horizon and the room was sparsely lit from the dawn light, Bran shifted uncomfortably in the bed, Sansa had turned over at some point in the night so that her back was to him, but the bed was still cramped between the two of them. As quietly as he could Bran sneaked out of the room and returned to his own, once he was there he laid in his own bed, stretching out his cramped limbs. Something felt very wrong with Bran, he'd dreamt last night that he was at home in Winterfell, except he wasn't himself. He'd been walking around on all fours, he'd felt like he was Summer, but that couldn't be possible. It was just a dream, he'd probably had it due to a result of Lady's death, and missing his own wolf. Pushing the dream from his mind Bran stood from his bed and started to prepare himself for the day ahead.

"Good morning, Bran." Ser Jaime greeted coolly when Bran came to serve the knight his breakfast. Bran imagined that he was still mad about the incident from last night. "How is your sister?" He asked as Bran set the small table in the room, his tone still cold and emotionless.  Bran forced himself not to scowl at him, what was the point of asking about Sansa? So he could slight her to his face when he was unable to defend her?

"She is distraught, Ser. Lady's death was very upsetting to her." Bran answered neutrally. He heard the man chuckle at his words, Bran did what he could to remain indifferent as he poured his Knight's wine. "Is Prince Joffrey well?"

Ser Jaime actually laughed at the question, "You Starks, such an honorable sort. Asking about the well being of your prince after he's harmed you in such a way."

"Prince Joffrey hasn't hurt me, Ser." The Lannister laughed again.

"Is that so Brandon? Tell me, does Sansa think the same of my dear nephew after he had her pet butchered?"Bran felt his grip tighten on the wine pitcher. "How did you sleep last night by the way?" Ser Jaime asked sending Bran a knowing grin.

"I'm sorry Ser, I don't catch your meaning." Bran replied. Ser Jaime's smile widened at the boy's answer, Bran felt a pit form in his stomach as the man spoke.

"Cersei came to visit me last night after you left. She told me that she saw you going into Sansa's room." Bran's eyes widened, "As far as we were able to hear you never left, please tell me that you didn't spoil her did you Brandon?" The Knight mocked. "No one would be able to blame you of course. Sansa is a very beautiful girl, I can imagine it would be hard not to fuck her if given the chance."

"I didn't fuck her!" Bran shouted. To his surprise Jaime didn't get angry, instead he chuckled. Before he could let Ser Jaime reply he looked down at his fate. "I'm sorry, Ser. I didn't mean to..."

"Relax Bran. I was merely teasing, you're far to young for such things. Why Cersei and I didn't do much more than kissing until-"

"Please, Ser, I really don't want to know." Bran interrupted while cringing, causing the knight to guffaw again.

"Gods, are all of the Starks blushing maidens? Or is it just the women in the family?" Ser Jaime smiled cruelly, "You are dismissed, prepare yourself for the journey." Bran gave his thanks and quickly exited the room.  On his way back to his room he ran into his Arya, he tried to stop and talk to her, but she just shoved past him roughly.

"Arya, wait!" He called as he chased after her, she continued to stalk away from him. "Arya!" At last she turned to him and glared at him.

"What?!" She yelled, and Bran was sure that anyone in the Inn at The Crossroads that was still asleep was woken up. He let her lead him to her room and she sat down on the bed. "What do you want?!" She growled. Bran paused, he'd thought a lot about how Arya was doing after last night but he hadn't thought of anything to actually say.

"I wanted to make sure you're okay." Arya's scowl deepened at the comment and Bran was worried that she was going to start shouting at him again, instead she just tells him to "get out" in a voice that's closer to a growl than any human noise. So he respected his sisters wishes and silently left the room, wandering why he even tried in the first place.

"How is she?" A low voice asked as soon as he'd left the room, Bran looked up to see his father standing there, grim faced.

"She's really angry, she really wants to be left alone. Perhaps you could let her ride a horse while we're traveling today? It may help." Bran suggested carefully. Lord Stark nodded at his words.

"Are you okay?" Ned asked, lightly pulling him away from Arya's door and to the end of the hall. "You said that Ser Jaime was angry last night. Has he taken that anger out at you in anyway?" Bran thought of the jokes and taunts that the Knight made whilst breaking his fast, Bran wasn't actually sure if the man was truly just making japes or if he was attempting to hurt Bran in some way.

"Ser Jaime has not behaved unkindly towards me Father." Bran replied neutrally. Lord Stark looked unconvinced by the answer, but he did not press the boy. Instead he told Bran that the King planned to leave before the hours end and that Bran should prepare his and Ser Jaime's steeds. Thanking his father, Bran left to the stables and did as he was told.

"Well done Stark." Ser Jaime praised when he found Bran had readied his horse unprompted. The knight opened to his mouth to make another comment when he stopped, "Bran, go prepare your own horse." He ordered, looking over Bran's head.

"My horse is already prepared Ser."

"Then go check them again." He demanded harshly, but when Bran turned around he found himself standing in front of the queen.

"Your Grace." He greeted, bowing on one knee before the golden haired woman. She sneered at him as always and moved around him, she looked around and then kissed her brother. Bran stood to do as his master had commanded, feeling uncomfortable around the pair.

"Don't go anywhere you." Queen Cersei ordered.

"Cersei, we've talked about this." Ser Jaime interrupted.

"Oh relax Jaime, I'm not going to hurt him." The Queen turned and knelt to eye level with Bran, "I just want to remind you that your sister is marrying my son. If I so much as think you're going to reveal our secret I will make Sansa's life very difficult. Do you understand, Bran?" She asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Yes, Your Grace." Satisfied with the answer the Queen pinched Bran's cheek roughly and then walked away. Bran massaged his cheek and turned to his Knight.

"Have I forgotten anything, Ser?" The Lannister looked at Bran strangely, if he didn't know better Bran would think that there was glint of sympathy in the Knight's eye.

"No, no I'm fine Bran, thank you. Now go mount your horse, we're leaving."

 

It was another few days to reach King's Landing, and during that time Bran's wolf dreams became more common. It started to worry the boy, each time they felt less and less like dreams and more like Bran was actually controlling Summer. He could feel the ground under his paws, the wind through his fur when he ran, on the last night before they had arrived in King's Landing Bran had killed a deer and he could swear he had been able to taste the blood and flesh. He spent much of his time thinking about these dreams. Ser Jaime and his father had both questioned him about his new distracted attitude, his father out of fear for his well being, and Ser Jaime out of fear that he'd become a useless squire, or that was what the Lannister told him.

That was the other thing that confused Bran during the journey south. While after the incident between Arya and Joffrey the Kingslayer had been cold, as they got closer to to the capital the knight had become slightly more friendly. While they were on the road Ser Jaime would tell Bran tales of battles he had been in or tourney's he'd one. Bran knew more than one of the stories but did not interrupt for fear of ruining the new found kindness Ser Jaime had granted him.

When at last they arrived at the capital Bran had to admit that he was excited for the first time since this trip began, he'd been dreaming of being a part of the Kingsguard for as long as he could remember and today he would be entering White Sword Tower, the living place of the Kingsguard. He was staring up at the slender tower when Ser Jaime stood in front of him.

"I'm needed in the Great Hall, Bran. Take my things to my quarters." The Knight ordered as walked off.

 

* * *

 

 

Jaime sighed as he left the Great Hall after his conversation with Ned Stark, he couldn't believe that anyone could be such a self-righteous prick! It was astounding to Jaime that the Lord would let his son so much as be in the same room as the supposedly dishonorable 'kingslayer'. It was even more astounding that at some point in his life Bran had admired Ser Jaime. The knight sighed again, he knew that he shouldn't actually become friendly with the boy, the only reason he'd taken Bran as a squire was to guarantee the boy's silence. 

Yet ever since that night  at the inn when Bran had defended him about his killing the Mad King, Jaime had felt very conflicted towards the boy. On the one hand the boy was only an average squire at best, especially these last few days when he'd seemingly been distracted in the early mornings and during the rides. On the other he'd did seem genuinely fond of the knight at times, there was a certain look in the Stark boys blue eyes when he listened to one of Jaime's stories, a look of genuine interest and fondness.

So when Ser Jaime entered White Sword Tower and saw Ser Meryn Trant yelling at the boy Jaime felt rather defensive. "Trant, what is going on here?" He asked evenly as he stepped in front of his squire. Trant's eyes when from Bran to Jaime, a solid scowl on his features.

"What happened is that this idiot boy knocked my sword to the ground when walking by it! Could have ruined the blade!" The knight near shouted in exposition. Jaime made a show of rolling his eyes at the knight before turning to Bran.

"Bran, what actually happened?" He asked looking at his squire, who was clearly shaken by having just been yelled at by a member of the illustrious Kingsguard.

"I was taking your things to your quarters, and when I left the room I tripped and knocked down Ser Meryn's sword on accident." The boy turned to Trant, "I'm truly sorry Ser, it was an accident." Meryn opened his mouth to make a reply when Jaime turned back to him.

"Now, see then Trant? It was an accident, nothing for anyone to fret over. Now why don't you run off like a good dog?" The knight glared at Jaime but he wasn't afraid, if he so much as touched the hilt of his sword Meryn would quiver and beg for mercy. The only member of the Kingsguard who could beat Jaime is Ser Barristan and unlike Trant, Ser Barristan was not likely to threaten a child over such a minor thing. Ser Meryn left the tower and Jaime turned back to Brandon. "Help me out of my armor Bran, I'm going to go see Cersei." He ordered calmly, walking towards his small room, while walking Jaime noticed the way that Bran seemed to pale at the very mention of his sister, it was as if the lad thought that anytime he and Cersei were in the same room they were going to fuck each other like wild animals.

 "Ser?" Bran asked a moment later as he stood on a stool to unclasp Jaime's breastplate and cloak. It only occurred to Jaime now that Bran had been speaking the entire time.

"I'm sorry Bran, what were you saying?" Ser Jaime asked, shrugging off his cuirass while Bran moved onto his greaves.

"I spoke to my father when we first arrived, Ser, and he wants to know if I would be able to join he and my sisters for dinner this evening?" Bran repeated as he removed the knights leggings, Jaime took a moment to consider the question, "He said that it would be an early dinner." Bran added hastily.

"What's wrong Brandon, have you grown tired of my company?" Jaime accused, but before the Stark could stammer and stutter his reply Jaime said, "Very well, go and join your family for dinner, Peck can bring me my dinner tonight. But I want my sword sharpened and my armor shined before you take off." The squire smiled at Jaime's answer, thanking him sincerely. Jaime thought it was rather odd for him to be so excited for a family dinner, when he'd been a boy family dinner had been entirely uncomfortable affairs, his father and sister hating Tyrion for the crime of being alive, Father being incredibly controlling and overbearing in the name of "family". If he hadn't had such a good relation ship with his siblings Jaime doubts he would have been able to survive childhood without succumbing to madness. How it was that the Starks were so damned perfect when there were seven of them was incomprehensible to the Knight.

 

 Jaime was surprised to find that Bran had yet to return to the Tower when Jaime had retired for the evening. Figuring that it couldn't be too long before the squire showed up Jaime elected to wait on the first floor for Bran's return. When he did return he didn't expect for the boy to have blood on his hands and clothes. "What in the seven hells happened to you?" Ser Jaime asked in surprised, the look Bran gave him was one of fear and sadness.

"My sister, Arya, someone..... someone tried to kill her." He explained nervously, refusing to meet Jaime's gaze.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I was sitting in her room with her after dinner, saying good night before I returned to you, but when I turned around there was this man in black. He was going to kill us and..." Bran paused to take a breath, he was explaining the events as quickly as he could and was already short of breath from running to White Sword Tower. "I tried to keep him away from her, I grabbed his knife, eventually my father came and killed him." Bran finished, taking several deep breaths. Jaime noticed that the boy was considerably paler, his dark hair looking almost black in comparison to his skin.

"Come with me, we need to clean your wounds." In truth Bran probably needed to see a Maestar, but Jaime didn't particularly like Pycelle, if he was anything like the Maestar Jaime had as a child then Pycelle would probably try to grope Bran the first chance he got. Jaime instead got a small bowl of water and dipped a towel in it before taking Bran's wrist and cleaning the deep cuts, the boy flinching all the while. "Stop that." Jaime ordered curtly, ignoring the apology that Bran murmured. "Is anyone else injured?"

"No, Ser. My father and his men are staying with Sansa and Arya." The Stark boy explained quietly.

"And why did you come here?" Jaime asked curiously. Surprisingly Bran sheepishly looked away at the question, Jaime looked around, he didn't actually have anything that could serve as a wrapping for the boy's wounds, but perhaps Ned Stark had something. "I'm waiting."

"I...." Bran still refused to look Jaime in the eyes, "I thought you might be able to help, I don't know what with since the assassin is already dead but.... I guess I was worried and thought you'd help." He explained bashfully. Part of Jaime actually wanted to hug Bran when he'd said that, another part of Jaime was his conscious yelling at him. Here was this boy, who defended him when people called him Kingslayer, who'd admired and wanted to be like him. This twelve year old boy who nearly died and his first thought was that Jaime Lannister would be willing to protect and help him. And how did Jaime repay Bran's faith? By forcing him to squire for Jaime under threat of death, by letting Cersei berate and hurt him whenever she pleased.

With a weary sigh Jaime stood up, "Does the Tower of the Hand have a room you can stay in?" Bran nodded silently, "See if one of your father's men has something to wrap your hands in, and then rest. When you wake up go see Grand Maestar Pycelle about your hands." Jaime ordered softly, then he gave Bran a reassuring pat on the shoulder and sent him on his way.

 

* * *

 

 

Ned sat in a chair opposite his son while wrapping bandages tightly around the boy's palms. When Bran had returned from his visit with the Kingslayer Ned softly scolding him for running off in the way he did. He wished that he could tell Bran not to trust the man he admired, it would be so much easier if he could show his children the letter that Lysa had sent Cat. But he didn't want to scare his children, especially not after tonight. He had at least three guards outside each of his children's doors, with Jory outside Arya's since she seemed to be the main target. Ned was starting to deeply regret ever accepting Robert's offer of Handship. First the business at the Inn, then the strange way Bran had been acting in recent days, and finally this attempt on his daughter's life. Ned thanked the Gods that there had only been the one assailant.

"Is Arya alright?" Bran asked as Ned finished wrapping his hands.

"Arya is fine, Sansa too." He explained, standing and walking over to his son's bed. He pulled the covers back and gestured for Bran to get under them, which he did. "You were very brave, Bran. I'm proud of you, but now you need to rest. Tomorrow morning we will see Grand Maestar Pycelle about your hands." His son nodded wearily, "Sleep well son." Lord Stark said, giving him a hug and exiting the room.

Before Ned rested that night he wrote a letter for Catelyn, informing her of the attempt on Arya's life and warning her to be wary of such a thing occurring in Winterfell. The Lord sighed as he sat at his desk, he looked off to the side and saw the murder weapon that the assassin had attempted to use. Ned had cleaned the blade, but the memory of Bran's blood dripping off of the Valyrian steel haunted him. Lord Eddard knew when he'd accepted to position of Hand that he was placing him in a dangerous position. Now though, now his children were being targeted, and he was more frightened than ever before.


	4. Jaime, Bran, Ned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes to check up on Bran after the previous nights events. Bran recovers from his wounds and gets to help his knight during the Tournement. Ned finds a surprise visitor in a place he'd never expected.

The first thing Jaime Lannister did when he woke the following morning was go see how Bran was. He'd bumped into Ser Barristan on his way and the Knight had asked where he was, Jaime explained the circumstances and said that he wanted to see how his squire was doing, and see if there was anything that he could do to help the investigation. Selmy, being the honorable sort that he was, let Jaime go for the time.

In truth Jaime had less of an interest in investigating the assassination attempt, his job was to protect the king and his family, not the Hand or his children. Of course he would bring up the matter, but not because he cared about Stark or his daughter, no. Jaime was going to bring up the attempt because his squire had been harmed and he wanted to know who was responsible.

Before he could find Bran, Jaime had encountered Lord Stark again. "Good morning, Lord Stark." Jaime greeted coolly. The man leveled an icy glare at Jaime, his mouth set in a deep frown. "I'm here to see how Bran is doing." The knight explained, doing all he could to sound like he cared and not like he wanted to punch the man in the face. Stark glared at him for another moment before leading him to the boy's room.

"He's been looked at by Grand Maestar Pycelle." The Hand informed as he opened the door and walked in, both the Maestar and Bran looking up at the visitor. "Bran, Ser Jaime is here to see you."

"Good morning, Ser." Bran greeted with a sheepish smile. Jaime looked down at Bran's hands and saw the bloody bandages placed on the side table next to the bed, he also noticed that the cuts were much deeper than he'd thought when he examined them last night. Jaime fought the urge to frown, despite his best efforts Jaime did find himself caring about the Stark boy, that didn't mean he was going to make it obvious to every person in the kingdoms.

"How are you feeling, Bran?" Jaime asked, a small amount of sentiment seeping into his voice despite his efforts. Bran frowned at the question and looked down at his hands.

"The boys hands are rather badly damaged," Pycelle replied before Bran got the chance, "and he's lost quite a bit of blood. I would recommend he rest for the next day or two." The Grand Maestar instructed as he wrapped new bandages around Bran's hands. Then the old man stood and exited the room, giving his courtesies to Jaime and Lord Stark. Bran looked disappointed by the Maestar's instructions and Jaime understood why, when he'd been at that age he would have hated to be denied his activities as a squire.

"I'm sorry, Ser Jaime." Bran said sorrowfully, Jaime let a sigh escape his lips.

"Lord Stark, would you please give me a moment to talk to your son in private?" He asked turned to the other man, Stark looked like he wanted to say no, or more accurately like he would rather gut Jaime than leave him alone with Bran.

Turning to his son Lord Stark asked Bran if he would be alright with that, there was a small pause before he answered and Jaime realized with a pang of guilt that it was because Bran was more than likely still frightened by Jaime. After the pause Bran said that it would be fine and Ned Stark reluctantly left the room. Jaime walked over and sat on the edge of Brandon's bed.

"I'm sorry." Bran repeated woefully.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Bran." Jaime assured, "You did the right thing, and I agree with Grand Maestar Pycelle. Which isn't something I say often." Jaime joked, hoping it would help make the situation less awkward. "Bran, do you have any idea who the man that attacked you was?" The small boy shook his head.

 "He just said that he'd expected Arya to be alone, but two children wouldn't put up any more fight than one." Bran explained, a sort of anger that Jaime had never heard before seeping into his voice. Jaime just nodded at his words, telling Bran to rest and let his wounds heal. He then abruptly left the room, not wishing to be in the awkward enviroment anymore. It wasn't Jaime's fault that being in that room made him uncomfortable, he'd never really cared about anyone outside his family, and now all of the sudden he was feeling protective of a damn Stark. The Gods, Jaime thought, had a bizarre sense of humour.

 

* * *

 

 

Bran was incredibly restless during the two days that Maestar Pycelle had told him to stay in bed, truthfully Bran felt fine mere hours after the Maestar had left, but his father did not want to risk anything after the attack. And though Bran did not admit it, it did hurt when more than a slight amount of pressure was placed on his wounds.

During his first day of recuperation Bran had gotten his father to allow him out of his room, under the condition that he not leave the Tower of The Hand, and that one of the Stark Family guard be with him at all times. Bran eagerly accepted these terms, after one day of being forcefully kept in his room the rest of the Tower seemed like a Castle comparatively. But after having explored as much as he was able within only a few hours Bran quickly became bored. Had his hands not been wounded he may have contemplated climbing along the outside of the tower, however he doubted that his father's guards would let him.

Thankfully Arya was able to offer some reprieve during Bran's imprisonment. She would come keep him company at every chance she got, on the day after the attack Arya spent nearly an hour in his room hugging him and thanking him while at the same time apologizing for getting him hurt and saying how badly she felt. Bran assured her that she had nothing to apologize for, saying that she was his sister and he would do it a thousand times more to protect her. Arya laughed at that, telling him that he had been told to many stories about knights.

On his final day of confinement Arya introduced Bran to her 'dancing' instructor, Bran initially had no idea as to why he would want to watch her dance. Then he had met the man, he was Braavosi man whom their father had hired to teach Arya how to sword fight. The style of sword fighting that Syrio taught Arya was completely different from the style that his brothers, and Ser Rodrik, had taught him in Winterfell. Syrio told him that it was called 'Water Dancing' and that it was a Braavosi style.

Once the lesson had ended Arya took Bran to her room and showed him the reason for her lessons. Jon had crafted her a sword before leaving for the Wall. Bran felt a surge of of jealously shoot him at the thought, why hadn't he been given a sword? He was the one going off to be a squire, Arya was going to have to learn how to be a proper lady at some point or another. Yet when Bran saw how happy Arya was talking about the sword Bran felt all of that jealousy melt away.  He promises that once they both have swords they'll have to have a proper duel some day.

 

At last the day of the Hand's Tourney arrived. Bran's hands had healed and he was ready to serve Ser Jaime during the tournament. When he arrived at White Sword Tower early that morning he found Ser Jaime still asleep when he'd knocked.

"Hmm? Oh, good morning Bran." The blonde knight greeted sleepily, "What are you doing here so early?" He gave Bran an odd look once his eyes seemed to focus, "And why are you smiling like that?"

"The Tourney is today." Bran explained excitedly, the enthusiasm of which Jaime did not reciprocate. With a disappointed sigh Bran placed the tray of foods on the bedside table so that the knight might break his fast.

"I'm guessing that your father never held any tournaments up North?" Ser Jaime asked as he picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it. Bran shook his head to the affirmative.

"But today I get to be a squire as part of the Tourney." Bran elated, Ser Jaime rolled his eyes at him. Bran supposed that Ser Jaime had been part of hundreds of Tournaments and the event wasn't as special to him.

"Right, well then Bran I believe that I will be needing my armor." The Knight ordered and Bran hurriedly prepared him for the day ahead.

 

In the first few hours of the Tournament Ser Jaime did very well in the joust! He had succeeded in dismounting Ser Andar Royce, and Lord Bryce Caron in the first two rounds. And Bran took great pride in the fact that he had contributed to these victories. As Bran was rearming Ser Jaime with a new lance for the third round he looked and saw that Jory was to face off against Lothur Brune. He stopped and watched intently as the Captain of the Stark Guard tied with the man for the first tilt, and then again in the second tilt, only for him to be dismounted on the third. "Disappointed?" Ser Jaime asked as he mounted his horse. Bran nodded in reply as he checked that Ser Jaime's horse was properly saddled, and his shield fit for jousting. "Well, he did better than the other two in your House who were they, Hornwin and Alys?"

"Harwin and Alyn," Bran corrected with a frown, "And they were both up against knights! One of them was of the Kingsguard." Ser Jaime chuckled at the boy's words.

"Maybe they shouldn't have participated then? If they weren't up to the task." Bran ignored the knight's jests, instead pretending to be too caught up in his work to hear the insults against his father's men. "Are we ready then?" Ser Jaime asked. Bran nodded and not long after the Lannister was called to joust against Ser Barristan the Bold.  In truth Bran didn't think Jaime would win, if there was any knight in the Seven Kingdoms who could best Ser Jaime, it was Ser Barristan. King Robert called for the joust to begin and Bran handed Ser Jaime his lance for the joust and then the knights charged one another. Bran watched eagerly, and when after two passes Ser Jaime finally dismounted Ser Barristan, Bran was one of the many in the crowds cheering!

Ser Jaime returned to Bran with a grin on his face. The Squire congratulated his master on the victory, "To be honest Ser, I wasn't sure that you could best Ser Barristan." Bran admitted to which Jaime laughed.

"The Lord Commander is one of the best Swordsman in the Kingdoms Brandon, perhaps even better than I. But he's an old man, and doesn't have many opportunities to practice with a lance." With a cocky smile the Lannister knight added, "I do believe that we have secured my place in Semi-Final, now let us simply watch and..." The knight trailed off for a moment, "Actually Bran, if you will excuse me for a moment." And without another word the knight walked off. Bran looked in the direction that his master walked and saw the Queen. Gulping down the bile that rose in his throat Bran decided it would be best to find his family and sit with them till Ser Jaime needed him again.

 "Good afternoon, Lord Brandon." Septa Mordane greeted politely as she and Arya moved to give him room on the bench. "Has Ser Jaime given you leave for until the Semi-Finals?" She asked. Bran nodded and was surprised to see a man he'd not met before sitting next to Sansa. The Salt and Pepper haired man stood and offered a hand to Bran.

 "Lord Brandon, a pleasure to meet you." The man said as he shook Bran's hand, "I am Lord Petyr Baelish, and old friend of your Mothers." He explained with a smile. Bran merely smiled and nodded back. "Congratulations on your appointment as Jaime Lannister's squire, a most sought after position I assure you." The man continued, and Bran gave his thanks. Sitting down between Sansa and Arya, Bran watched eagerly for the next match.

Bran watched with interest as the Joust continued, with Thoros of Myr defeating Lord Beric Dondarrion, The Hound dismounting Lord Renly. Bran found himself feeling particularly pleased when Ser Loras Tyrell bested Ser Meryn Trant.

However nothing in the Tournament had been as exciting as when Ser Gregor Clegane faced off with Ser Hugh of the Vale, who had been Lord Jon Arryn's squire according to Lord Baelish. Ser Gregor was the largest man Bran had ever seen, dressed from head to toe in black steel armor, looking like what he imagined an evil knight from one of Old Nan's stories would have. Ser Hugh on the other hand was dressed in pristine armor that shined as if it had only just been bought from the smith, just like one of the heroes from Old Nan's stories would have. Even their faces, from the brief looks Bran got when they'd lifted their face plates, shared these descriptions. Ser Gregor being a dark skinned and ugly man, while Ser Hugh was fair skinned and youthful.

When the joust had started both men had charged past one another, on the second charge however Ser Clegane's lance met Ser Hugh's shoulder, splintering and sending the young knight off his horse onto the ground, a piece of the lance piercing the knight's throat. Bran's eyes widened at the sight and his ears ached from the sound of Sansa's scream, along with the shocked noises of the other spectators. Bran felt a hand grip his arm tightly, looking over he saw Arya staring with wide eyes as the knight coughed up blood. Bran pulled his sister close in an attempt to provide her with some comfort as men came to remove the dead knight from the field. To his right he heard Lord Baelish murmuring to Sansa, but Bran couldn't focus enough to listen. All he could do was stare at the dead man before him, spike protruding from his neck.

There was a small intermission before the Semi-Finals began, and Bran returned to where Ser Jaime's horse hitched and looked over the knights equipment, doing all he could to force away his shock from the earlier match. He felt that Ser Hugh's death shouldn't have bothered him so much, he'd been able to watch his father execute a man without looking away, why should Ser Hugh's death in a joust shake him so? Some logical part of Bran's mind pointed out that Ser Hugh's death was far bloodier and more violent than the deserter that his father had executed. But still why should that matter? If Bran wanted to be a knight he would certainly have to witness worse deaths than this.

"Something bothering you, Bran?" Ser Jaime asked, causing Bran to jump.

"Uh, No Ser. Just thinking about the Joust." The Stark boy lied. Ser Jaime eyed him suspiciously before nodding.

"Well, we still have one more match to watch. Best not worry about the finals till we know who we're facing."

"You don't think Ser Gregor will win?" Bran asked, surprised that Ser Jaime would even consider the possibility of Ser Loras winning. The Knight eyed Bran curiously.

"Loras Tyrell has made it this far, why couldn't he beat the Mountain?" Bran thought for a moment before answering.

"I don't know, it's just... well 'The Knight of Flowers'? Ser Loras is just kind of girly." For some reason Ser Jaime seemed to think that this was the funniest thing Bran had ever said.

Unfortunately, the final round never came to pass. Ser Loras had won his match against the Mountain, and enraged by his defeat Ser Clegane beheaded his horse and attacked his opponent. Had Sandor Clegane not intervened then The Knight of Flowers would have surely died. After King Robert had forced the brothers to stop fighting the Joust had been cancelled, with The Hound being proclaimed the hero of the day. Bran returned to White Sword Tower with Ser Jaime, after helping the knight remove his armor he was told that after cleaning said armor he could have the rest of the day off.

* * *

 Lord Stark sighed as he sat in his Solar and thought on the days events. The Tournament had ended in disaster and now the Crown was further in debt to the Lannisters. Ned had tried to convince Robert that the tournament was unnecessary, and when the King did not listen in ended in a young man dead and an evil man being let go. He had tried to have Robert arrest Ser Clegane, the man had tried to murder his competitor, but Robert would have none of it. Not for the first time Ned wished he had accepted Catelyn's offer.

The Lady of Winterfell had arrived at the end of last week. Having been informed of the attack on her children she came as quickly as she could, thankfully having Ser Rodrik accompanying her. Before she could go to the palace she had been intercepted by Littlefinger,  who brought and hid her at his brothel. Not long after he had brought Ned there to see her. They had discussed the attack, as well as what Robert planned to do about it, which Ned would later realize was nothing. Littlefinger then informed them that the knife that had scarred Bran's hands belonged to Tyrion Lannister, before warning that they needed more evidence before they could accuse the dwarf. Cat wondered if perhaps the Imp was involved in Jon Arryn's murder, Littlefinger told her that it was likely.

The meeting did not last long after that, Littlefinger had sworn to Cat that he would help Ned, and as of now he had. Telling the northern Lord who spied for Cersei and Varys and Littlefinger himself. He also helped him investigate Jon Arryn's murder and who he had seen before hand. Apparently the previous hand had made many visits to Robert's Bastard offspring. Ned wasn't able to make sense of it just yet, but he knew that the man had had a reason for this. 

Lord Stark sighed as he laid in bed that night, wishing he could prove who'd killed his foster father, and who had sent the assassin after his son. He wished most of all that he could leave this wretched place and take his family back to Winterfell where he knew they would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't end exactly how I had wanted it to. I originally intended to have the scene between Ned and Cat happen in real time and be longer. But I didn't feel confident in the way I was writing Catelyn. I don't even feel like I'm doing Ned justice. So I decided to cut the scene down and summarize it so as not to miswrite the characters.
> 
> But we did get a small spark of Littlefinger in this chapter, and truthfully I don't know how much more we'll see of him. I do have plans for him, but that will not be for quite a while. 
> 
> Anyway, next time we'll see Jaime learn about Tyrion and how that affects his relationship with Bran. Stay tuned.


	5. Bran and Jaime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime learns of Tyrions capture and decides to take an eye for an eye.

Bran awoke the day after the Tourney of the Hand in a good mood. Ser Jaime, while disappointed at the tournaments early end, had been pleased with his performance and as a result pleased with Bran as his squire. Which is why the reaction Bran received when he brought the Knight his morning meal was completely unexpected.

"Who did you tell?" Ser Jaime shouted, slapping the tray of food out of Bran's hands. Bran shook his head, not understanding what Ser Jaime meant. "Who did you tell?" The man asked again, stepping towards Bran threateningly.

"I don't know what you mea-" Bran was cut off as the Knight lifted him off by the collar of his tunic.

"Liar!" Ser Jaime shouted, holding his squire against the wall. "You told you're bitch Mother about Cersei and I and now she's kidnapped my brother." Ser Jaime nearly growled the last words. "Now, I'll ask you again, who else did you tell?" Bran shook his head violently.

"No one, Ser. I swear to the Old Gods and the New, I did not tell anyone about your relationship with the queen." Bran cried. The Kingslayer moved his hand to Bran's neck, choking the boy.

"Then why is my brother a captive of your mother?" He asked venomously.

"I don't know. Honestly I don't." Bran choked out. With an angry sigh Ser Jaime released him. Gasping for breath Bran fell to his knees, he'd honestly thought for a moment that Ser Jaime might kill him.

"Get up, perhaps your Father knows why my brother was taken." The Knight ordered as he stomped angrily from the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Before leaving the Red Keep Jaime gathered a small group of Lannister guards, having one of them bind Bran's hands behind his back.  One of the guards told Ser Jaime that Bran's father had gone to Littlefinger's brothel, but Bran had told the man he was lying. Why would his father visit a brothel? The Kingslayer had ignored him though, telling a guard that if he talked again he was to be struck.

 

When they arrived at Lord Baelish's brothel Bran's father was already outside, a long with Jory and a couple guards that had been brought from Winterfell. Lord Stark seemed to notice Bran but before he could say anything The Kingslayer rode up on his horse. "What a small pack of wolves." He said as he dismounted from his horse.

"Stay back Ser," Jory warned, "This is the Hand of the King."

"Was the Hand of the King," Jaime corrected, "I don't know what he is now, Lord of somewhere very far away." The Knight's hand rested on the pommel of his sword. Bran looked from it to his father nervously, his father's eyes briefly caught his own, before glaring at Ser Jaime with his Lord's face.

"What's the meaning of this Lannister?" Lord Baelish asked.

"Get back inside, where it's safe." He ordered, "I'm looking for my brother, Lord Stark, you remember him don't you? Blonde hair, sharp tongue, short man."

"I remember him well."

"Seems he had some trouble on the road, you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"He was taken at my command." Bran's eyes widened, he shook his head at his father. _Why would he do that?_ Before he could think further on it Ser Jaime had drawn his sword, and each of the Lannister men with them had lowered their spears. Littlefinger tried to intervene, and then left to get the Gold Cloaks.

"Come Lord Stark, I want you to die with sword in hand." Jaime goaded. Bran wanted to call out, tell his Ser Jaime to stop, tell Father not to to fight him. But he could only watch in fear as the two men continued to trade words. Eventually Ser Jaime ordered, "Take him alive, kill his men."

"No!" Bran shouted, trying to run forward, only to be struck on the back of the head by the soldier who'd be ordered to hold him back. He fell to the ground, and everything was blurry. He saw what looked like Jory, kill two of the soldiers, before stepping forward to attack the Kingslayer. Jory was stabbed in the eye, Bran's vision came into focus just soon enough to see the man's corpse fall to the ground.

As Lord Stark and Ser Jaime fought Bran felt a small amount of hope enter his thoughts. _Father is a great fighter, he'll defeat Ser Jaime and then we can tell King Robert about the Queen._ He thought, but these thoughts were swiftly taken from his mind as one of the Lannister Soldiers drove a spear through his father's leg. "Father!" He shouted, only to be struck once more.  Bran thought he was about to lose consciousness. The last thing he saw before he passed out was his father bleeding out on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

"What about the Stark boy? The one who you made your squire, is he here?" Lord Tywin asked as he finished berating Jaime. Jaime frowned at his father, he'd brought Bran with him so he wouldn't go blabbing to anyone about Cersei and himself. But ever since they'd left the capital the boy had been utterly silent, shifting between bouts of sulking and glaring daggers at Jaime.

"Yes, he is in my tent. Would you like me to bring him to you?" He asked, respectfully. Lord Tywin scoffed at him.

"Why would I want to talk to a twelve year old boy?" Tywin rolled his eyes, "Why did you bring him with you?"

"Stark took my brother, so I took his son." Jaime lied smoothly, some of his men had asked the same during the days of travel to the Riverlands. His father didn't say anything, but Jaime could tell that he was less than impressed, but he didn't say anything so Jaime thanked his blessings and took his leave.

 

* * *

 

 

When Jaime returned to his tent he found that Bran was right where he'd left him. Sitting on a chair with a blank look on his face. The boy hadn't said a word during the entire trip, hadn't tried to escape, even when Jaime had unbound his hands he hadn't done anything remotely rebellious. With a sigh Jaime set a plate of food in front of him, "Eat." The Stark boy stared at the dish as if it might be poison. Jaime rolled his eyes, "If I were going to kill you, I would have done it by now, don't you think?" Bran only glared at him before starting to eat. A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Jaime decided to speak again. "Your father's alive."

"Good, maybe he'll come and put a spear through your leg." Bran muttered back.

"Actually he sent a letter, he wants my father to go to court. Apparently he's not pleased with Ser Gregor raiding the Riverlands. He also asked that you be brought with my father. Not a very smart man your father." Bran glared at him. "Really this is your mother's fault, not mine. Be angry with her, kidnapping my brother like that."

"Don't talk about my mother." Bran snapped. Jaime laughed.

"Do you think you're in a position to tell me what to do?"

"I hate you." Bran fired back. Jaime frowned at the words, did Bran really think it mattered to him? _Does it though?_ He thought. Bran was one of the only people who had never called him Kingslayer, had defended him even. Had it been anyone outside of his family that was in danger, Jaime might have felt bad about how he'd been treating his squire. As it were though Tyrion had been taken, and he would kill anyone to get him back.

"I'm sorry that you think your opinion matters." Jaime retorted thinking of his earlier conversation with father about Lions and Sheep. Bran sunk back into an angry silence, glaring at Jaime with Lord Stark's eyes. They eyes may have been Tully blue, but when he glared at Jaime it was the same glare that Ned Stark gave him every time they were in the same room. "You should ready yourself, we'll be leaving tomorrow." 

"Where are we going?" Bran asked warily. 

"The Riverlands, as punishment for your whore mother kidnapping my-" Jaime was cutoff by a goblet striking him in the face.

"Don't talk about my mother!" Bran shouted, throwing a plate at Jaime, fortunately this one missed. Jaime crossed the room quickly and grabbed the boys wrist as he reached for a knife. The boy squirmed in his tight grasp, the pain obvious in his face.

"I have been very kind to you, Brandon. I can't kill you, but I can do a number of other very painful things, and with a slim boy like you it would be easy. Now do you want to behave, or shall I break your wrist to teach you some manners?" Jaime asked in a low, angry voice. Bran only nodded, "You want me to break your wrist?" Jaime asked.

"I'll behave." Bran answered quickly. 

Jaime smiled, "Good, now I recommend you get some rest, we have a long day a head of ourselves." The Stark boy nodded wordlessly and did as he was told. Jaime decided to make an inspection of the troops his father had provided him, perhaps it would take away the uneasy feeling that had suddenly taken residence in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter was shorter and only had two POV's, but we're getting closer and closer to the start of the war, and that is when the story will pick up wind. So consider this chapter something of a necessary evil.


	6. Ned, Robb, Bran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned must make a choice, Robb gets his first taste of battle, and Bran finds some small amount of safety.

Ned Stark bristled with anger as he looked at the woman before him. "What are you doing here?" He rasped, "I've told Varys that I'd accepted your deal, I'll proclaim your bastard king and take the black."

Cersei Lannister smiled at him then, "I know, Lord Stark, I knew you would accept the deal. The only thing you could possibly care about more than your precious honor is your children." The woman said in a mocking tone, "Really, why would you warn me? Are you the dumbest man in the entire world?"

"Did you only come here to mock me, Your Grace?" Ned asked, adding the title only as a false courtesy. Cersei smiled a joyless smile and shook her head.

"I came here to relieve you of any doubts you might have of my promise. As long as you keep your word and declare Joffrey king, and tell your boy to go home, then you shall be allowed to live, and your daughters will be treated well." Ned wanted to tell her that he knew Arya wasn't in the capital, but he would rather her be as far away from the capital as she could be. _Arya is a smart girl, she'll know to go North, she'll find Robb and he will return with her to Winterfell._ Ned thought though he knew that the Lannisters had likely already sent men to search for his youngest daughter.

"And what of Bran?" Lord Stark asked, "He's still with your brother raiding across the Riverlands." Cersei laughed at his concern, and were he not so weak from hunger and thirst he thought he might have throttled the woman.

"You're nosy son will be fine, Lord Stark. Despite how much of a danger the child proves, Jaime seems to have taken quite a liking to him. The Gods only know why."

Ned seethed with anger, "My son is a captive of your Oathbreaking brother, one of the only people who knows of your incest, and you would have me believe that he's safe? When my son is marching to do battle with your brothers armies as we speak?"

"Well that relies entirely on your actions, doesn't it Lord Stark?" With another  mirthless smile the Queen turned and left. Leaving Eddard Stark to sit in the Black Cells with only his thoughts. Ned prayed to the Gods that the damned Lannisters kept their word and kept Sansa safe. He prayed that Robb would heed his word and return home to Winterfell. He prayed that Arya would find her way home safely, and he prayed that Bran would find some way to escape from the wretched Kingslayer.

 

* * *

 

 

Robb sat upon his horse and looked out over the fields, not far from Riverrun. He and eighteen thousand men were armed and ready to march on the Kingslayer's army. "Are you ready?" Theon asked from beside him. Robb nodded, not admitting his nerves. Looking at his friend Robb could see Theon give him a questioning look.

"I'm nervous," Robb admitted with a sigh, "But we have to do this, and if our plan works then the Kingslayer's forces will not be expecting us." Theon nodded and Robb could see that he was nervous as well, but there was something else Robb noticed. Theon seemed almost excited to go to battle. " _In the Iron Islands you aren't a man until you've killed your first enemy."_ Robb remembered the Greyjoy heir telling him that once when they were younger, Theon was excited for the battle because he wanted to prove himself a man.

Robb suppressed a sigh at the revelation. There were times when Robb wished greatly for Theon to give up on returning to his home. The truth was Robb didn't think he would ever get to. His father, Lord Balon Greyjoy, had tried to usurp the throne from King Robert, and when he was defeated Theon was given to Robb's father as a hostage. But Lord Stark had treated Theon fairly and at times was like his father, and Robb thought of Theon as his brother in everything but blood.

"Lord Stark," Called a scout, pulling Robb from his thoughts, "We've spotted the Kingslayer's army, we await your command." Robb nodded and looked once more to his friend, who nodded.

"We move at once!"

 

* * *

 

 

Bran nearly fell to the ground as he entered Ser Jaime's tent.  The damned knight had come up behind him, laughing happily. "Good show, Brandon. I'm glad to see that I'm as good a teacher as I thought." Bran scowled at the comment, The Kingslayer hadn't taught him very much at all since Bran had become his squire, and what little he had taught didn't seem like anything Ser Rodrik couldn't have taught him in Winterfell. Regardless Ser Jaime ignored his scowl and poured himself a glass of wine.

Ser Jaime's soldiers had set up a small ring for men to have fist fights and brawls that others could wager on. Earlier today another lords squire, an older boy named Ryon, had purposefully shoved Bran whilst he carried a tray of food to Ser Jaime's tent. The boy then laughed at Bran while mocking him, in retaliation Bran punched the boy in the face. The two squires had traded a few blows before Ser Jaime and Ryon's lord had found them and pulled them apart. Rather than punish the boys, Ser Jaime decided to give the boys training swords and have them settle their argument that way.

While Bran had earned quite a few bruises fighting the older boy, he had eventually struck the boy between the legs with his sword, and afterwards had jabbed him roughly in the stomach with it. Bran hadn't cared that it was a dirty fight, if the other boy wasn't going to fight with honor then why should Bran? And it had felt good to release the anger that had been building up since Ser Jaime took him from King's Landing.  After the fight had ended a number of lords and knights pushed their squires forwards to challenge Bran. Bran had only been able to best one more squire before he became too tired and simply couldn't fight anymore.

"I made nearly a hundred dragons. I truly did not know you had it in you, I guess all that misplaced anger finally did you some good." The Kingslayer praised, were Bran not so tired and sore he would have argued with the man about how misplaced his anger was. Instead the young Stark settled for scowling at the knight. "I do hope that you put those skills to use on the field tomorrow."

 "What?" Bran asked, eyes wide. Surely the knight didn't mean for Bran to fight in an actual battle. The smile on Jaime's face seemed to confirm his fears before the man did so himself.

"We're going to march on Riverrun tomorrow." Ser Jaime explained, confirming Bran's worst fears, "And I want you to help me on the battlefield." Bran shook his head lightly.

"You can't do that, I'm a prisoner. I'm your hostage." The Kingslayer raised an eyebrow at him.

"Prisoner? Bran you are my squire. You've been equipping me with armor before every battle, I merely left you here because I doubted you're ability on the battlefield. But after today I am sure you'll be very helpful." The Knight's smile turned crueler, "And of course if you try to resist I can just kill you." Bran swallowed loudly, what was he to do? He couldn't fight in an actual battle, they didn't make armor for boys of ten and two. Bran had never used a real sword before, and he'd barely been able to defeat two squires not many years older than himself, if a full fledged knight attacked him then how could Bran hope to defend himself?

Before Bran could voice any of these concerns Ser Jaime had gotten up and left the tent to find some food, whilst muttering that Bran had neglected to do so after the fight. All Bran could do was lay down on his bedroll and rest his bruised body, praying to the Old Gods and The New for aid.

 

* * *

 

Bran waited until late that night, till he could hear Ser Jaime's steady breath on the other side of the tent and Bran was certain he was asleep. Once this occurred the young Stark snuck out of the tent and slowly worked his way across the camp. There were a handful of guards patrolling the camp for spies or scouts or ambushers, but for the most part everyone was asleep. He'd carefully passed by the patrols, using tents as covers, and finally worked his way to the part of camp that they'd kept messenger ravens pen in.

Bran had been spending the last few nights of each day writing a letter to Jon. He hadn't planned to send do so originally, he thought once he was returned to King's Landing by his father he would tell him and King Robert the truth about Queen Cersei and the Kingslayer. But when Bran had found out about his father's arrest he'd known that his chances of ever getting to tell anyone the truth were close to none.  So tonight he had decided to send his letter to Jon. Even if Jon was already a member of the Night's Watch, he could at least send a letter to Robb and his mother at Winterfell.

Being very careful Bran looked for the appropriate bird and tied the letter to its leg. Bran however was surprised to find a letter already on it, quietly Bran removed the letter and read it.

 _Dear Father_ _,_

_I know that you would be proud of me, when the soldiers came and asked for able bodied young men I was one of the first to join up. Tomorrow we march to siege Riverrun, and I know that with Ser Jaime leading us we cannot possibly fail. I am sorry that you can not be here Father, and I know that you did not rape that woman as you were accused. But I promise that I will take care of mother, and my baby brother or sister when she arrives._

_Love,_

_Ian_

Bran frowned as he read the letter, one of the levies must have written this. With a soft sigh he reattached the letter and put his one to Jon on the other leg.  Sending the raven off, he quickly made his way back to Ser Jaime's tent, thankful to find the knight still asleep. _Maybe Jon hasn't said his oath yet, he might be able to come save me._ Bran thought wistfully, knowing that the chances of that happening were none existent Bran willed himself to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Theon and Lord Umber had the Kingslayer flanked, the man was defenseless. But Robb couldn't shake his nerves as his prisoner spoke. "Lady Stark, I'd offer you my sword, but I seemed to have lost it." The man japed breathlessly.

"It is not your sword I want, give me my daughters back, give me my husband." Then Robb's mother seemed to pause before asking in a voice of steel, "Where is my son?" Turning to Robb, "Where is Bran?" Her voice hadn't changed, but looking at her eyes Robb knew that she was worried sick for her son, Robb felt the same worry when they hadn't found him on the battlefield.

"I'm afraid that I've lost your daughters and husband, my lady." He answered with false courtesy, "As for young Brandon, he ran as soon as we where attack. A rather shameful display if I do say so myself. I'm afraid you'd both be quite disappointed in him." Before he could continue Theon punched him in the back of the head. Robb was grateful for his friends action, and gave him an approving nod. 

"Send his head to his Father, Robb." Theon suggested earnestly.

Robb shook his head, despite the pleasure it would give him to do just that. "He's more use to us alive."

"Take him away and put him in irons." His mother ordered from beside him. Lord Greatjon did just that as the Kingslayer challenged him to a duel. Robb denied him the chance. He wouldn't risk his families lives so recklessly. As the prisoner was taken away Robb's actions fell over him like a storm cloud. "I sent two thousand men to their deaths today."

"The bards will sing songs of their sacrifice." Theon assured him.

"Aye, but the dead won't hear them."

 

* * *

 

 

"My name is Brandon Stark! I am your liege lord's son!" Bran shouted as he was shackled and shoved into a cage with the other squires who'd been taken captive. Bran had tried to run when the ambush struck, but he'd been beset by northern soldiers immediately and they'd not believed him. "I order you to release me at once!" Bran shouted again.

"Shut yer mouth boy, or I'll shut it for ya!" The guard, a bald man with crooked teeth, threatened. His jerkin seemed to paint him as a Bolton man, most likely a levy if his manner of speaking was any indication. Bran silently cursed his own attire, Ser Jaime had made sure that Bran looked the part of a Lannister squire, a red shirt and jerkin with the Lannister Lion on it.

"If you do not release me this instant I'll have my brother hang you!" Bran tried, doing his best to sound like Father did whenever he was using his lord's voice. The way the guard sneered seemed to show that his threats weren't being taken seriously.

"Boy, if ya don't sit yer ass down now I'll feed ya to Lord Robb's wolves." The man menaced, giving Bran pause. _Summer is here?_ He thought, he'd had another wolf dream last night where he'd been outside the walls of Winterfell, but if his wolf was here then that would give him proof of his claim. "That's right boy, them wolves just love flesh, they'll tear it right of yer little bones." The guard continued seeming to take Bran's silence as stunned fear.

"Torrhen, what's going on here?" Came a deep, calm voice. The guard, Torrhen apparently, seemed to pale at the sound. Bran knew why when he saw who the voice belonged to.

"Lord Bolton, I was just telling this prisoner to keep quiet, little brat keeps mouthin' off." The guard explained in a shaky voice. The man, Lord Bolton looked past his levy and directly at Bran, giving the boy his first look at the Lord of the Dreadfort. He was a pale man with short, dark hair. His eyes were nearly as pale as his skin, and they looked as though they were piercing through Bran rather than seeing him.

"Torrhen, this boy is Lord Starks second son. You were given explicit orders to make sure that none of the imprisoned squires was him, were you not?" Lord Bolton asked in a deadly calm voice. The levy was starting to shake, and Bran felt himself do the same.

"Yes milord, but he's got all Lannister clothes on, ho-"

"Yes, and he also has the same dark hair as Lord Robb, and eyes that nearly the same shade of blue as Lady Catelyn's. Are you blind, Torrhen?" Before the other man could sputter out a reply Lord Bolton continued, "Release him at once." Torrhen nodded hastily and did as he was told, his hands shaking as he unlocked Bran's irons. As he did so Lord Bolton stepped forward and addressed Bran directly. "I offer deepest apologies, Lord Brandon, had I known that the man I'd sent to guard this pen was so incompetent I would have looked for you personally." Bran only nodded, not trusting his voice not to shake in front of the man. "Now, if it would please you I would be happy to take you to your brother's tent."

"Yes, thank you, My Lord." Bran said, doing all he could to contain his excitement, lest he sound like a child in front of this lord. Internally however Bran was beyond ecstatic. He would see Mother and Robb for the first time since leaving Winterfell, and Summer as well! When he and Lord Bolton reached the tent it was all he could do to not rush forward and hug his mother and older brother. From the look on her face, Bran worried that his mother might cry or faint.

"Lord Stark, I am glad to say that I have found your brother." Lord Bolton explained softly as he entered the tent. The tent was filled with various Lords, Bran wouldn't know any of them if not for the sigils they wore. Outside of his family Bran only recognized Ser Rodrik and Theon, both of whom were smiling at him.

"Thank you, Lord Bolton," Came a lordly voice that Bran was surprised to find was his brothers, "My Lords, I've no doubt that all of you will understand that I'd like a moment alone with my family." He commanded politely. With a few nods and exclamations the gathered lords left to tend to their men. Some bowed to Bran as they left, Ser Rodrik patted him on the shoulder while Theon gave him a friendly smile. The moment they were alone Bran's mother came forward and pulled Bran into the tightest hug he had ever received.

"Bran," She whispered like a prayer, "My sweet Bran." When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes and Bran felt his own eyes well up as he looked at her. "Thank the gods you are unharmed." She rubbed her arms up and down his arms, "Your shaking, oh sweetling, you don't even have a cloak." His mother started to untie her own.

"No mother, I.... I'm fine. The cold doesn't bother me." Bran assured with a fake smile, the truth was he was cold but he was so happy to see his family again that he didn't care.

"You're your father's son, that much is certain," His mother praised, smiling, "We'll still have to get you a cloak though." Bran chuckled lightly at the comment and embraced his mother again.

"I missed you." Bran said quietly, not trusting his voice not to break and make his tears fall. "Both of you." He said looking up at Robb who'd stayed back so their mother could speak. Robb gives him a nod with a big smile.

Stepping forward Robb ruffled his brothers hair. "You've grown." Robb noted, "Though I was still taller at twelve than you are." He added jokingly.

Bran fixed a glare on his brother, "You don't grow a beard nearly as well as Father does." He retorted, and both boys broke out in laughter. They heard their mother sigh from beside them, but Bran saw that she too was smiling. Before long however Bran had a serious look upon his face. "There's something I need to tell you." He admitted with a sigh. His brother and his mother both looked at him with concern and confusion evident on their face. "Ser Jaime, didn't want me as a squire because of my ability. When King Robert was at Winterfell I was climbing and...." Bran paused, the thought of that day still uncomfortable. "I saw Ser Jaime and the queen...." He looked at his mother now, not sure of how to put this.

"It's alright, Bran. Whatever you have to say I can handle it." She assured. Bran looked to Robb who nodded in agreement.

"They were..... together," Bran explained, feeling his face heat up, "As a man and wife are." He added. Both his Mother and Robb made noises of disgust and looked repulsed. "They saw me, and Ser Jaime grabbed me, and told me that if I told anyone that he would kill me." Bran swallowed hard before continuing, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. "Now it's my fault that Father and the girls are in trouble."

"No!" His mother exclaimed, "Bran, you can't think that. You were scared, you had to be with that man every day! It's not your fault." She repeated, coming and holding him against her as he started to cry.

"Father got hurt because of me, and Sansa and Arya are both in trouble. If I had told you, or Father or the King, or anyone..."

"No sweetling, you can't blame yourself for that, you're a child Bran, you are so brave and so strong, but you're just a boy. Ser Jaime is a knight of the Kingsguard, of course you were scared when he threatened to kill you." Bran shook his head against her shoulder as he cried. "Shh, sweetling. It's alright, we're going to march on the Red Keep and free your father and your sisters." She assured. "You're safe here, no one will hurt you." After a few more moments Bran nodded and pulled away from his mother.

"We can discuss this in the morning." Robb decided, sounding weary and looking at Bran with sympathetic eyes. "Bran I'll have a cot brought here for you to sleep on." Bran nodded in thanks. "We should all get some rest. There is much for us to think about." As he spoke the tent flaps were pushed open as two blurs of grey rushed in. One of them stopped and sniffed at Bran for a moment before barking loudly and circling him.

"Summer!" Bran cried in joy, the guard from earlier had spoken true and his wolf was here. But he was so much bigger than before, past Bran's waist at this point.

"I thought that when we found you you'd be happy to see him." Robb explained as he scratched Grey Wind behind the ears.

"Thank you." Bran said earnestly as he played with his wolf. Bran started to feel truly hopeful for the first time in days, he thought that his mother may be right and that they might just free his father and sisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is Chapter six, next time Jon receives Bran's letter and must make a choice, and the Starks in the Riverlands learn some terrible news.


	7. Jon, Robb, Jaime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon receives Bran's letter, Robb and Bran clash, and an imprisoned Jaime speaks to his squire.

It had been less than a week since he'd heard news of Robb marching south and he'd begun to worry for Bran's life in the hands of the Kingslayer. Every fiber of Jon's being wished to head south and ride to Robb, free his father and younger brother from the Lannisters. But he'd already taken his vows, he was a full fledged brother of the Night's Watch. He'd talked to Maestar Aemon, the man had gone through the same crisis as him, but he'd been old and blind already. He couldn't have helped them if he had wanted to, but Jon could. Jon could ride south and join up with Robb's army and then help free their family.

Yet Jon knew that he couldn't, if he succeeded in freeing his father then he would only be executed as a deserter. And he would further besmirch his father's name. So despite wanting to do so above all else, Jon did not leave the Wall. Finding out what these Wights were, and what had happened to Uncle Benjen was more important. _If there truly are White Walkers beyond the Wall then the entire realm is in danger, not just my family._ Jon told himself, he'd told himself that more times than he could count since he'd heard the news, and he had begun to believe, until Maestar Aemon gave him a letter.

_Dear Jon,_

_I don't know when this letter shall reach you, or if I will be alive when it does. But I must tell someone the truth. Ser Jaime didn't want me to be his squire because he thought I was a good swordsman or that I had any other potential. He wanted me to be his squire so that I would not reveal that I had seen him and the queen lying together as a man and woman do. I am so sorry that I didn't tell you before we left Winterfell, I wish I had, then I might not be in this mess. Tomorrow Ser Jaime plans to march on Riverrun and besiege it. He also intends to have me at his side and participate in battle should we enter one. I am not want to do so, and I fear that regardless of my actions I will be killed._

_Please send this letter to Winterfell so that the truth can be spread throughout the Kingdoms. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you, Jon._

_Love_

_Bran._

Jon eyes widened as he read the letter, Bran was to march into battle? Jon couldn't believe it, he remembered Bran when Jon had last seen him in Winterfell, a boy of two and ten, as slim as Jon had been at that age. Yet the Kingslayer would have him wielding a sword against trained soldiers? He was bound to die! Even if he didn't how long would the Kingslayer wait before killing him anyway? Jon couldn't bear to think of it. But Jon knew that the battle had already happened, and now he had no way of knowing whether his young brother, his baby brother, was alive or dead. All Jon could do is seethe as he looked at the gates of Castle Black, wondering what the worth of the realm would be if all his family were dead or in chains.

 

* * *

 

 

Olyvar Frey brought Robb and Bran ham and bread to break their fast as they sat inside Robb's tent. Robb dismissed his squire to go to the same with the men of his house, saying that he and Bran would be fine on their own for the time. Robb looked at his younger brother with a smile, glad beyond measure to know that he was safe. As his brother happily stuffed his face Robb chuckled, his brother had the appetite that Robb remembers having as a boy of twelve, and absently Robb wondered if he were as gangly at that age as Bran was.

"Where's Mother?" Bran asked between forkfuls of meat. Robb sighed audibly, he thought that he knew how Bran would react to what he was about to say, and he didn't want to argue with him so soon after reuniting.

"She is with Ser Rodrik preparing for the return to Winterfell." Bran looked up from his plate at him.

"She's going back to Winterfell?" Bran asked slowly, and Robb could tell that Bran knew where he was going with this.

"No," The elder Stark answered with a shake of his head, "You are."

"No I'm not." Bran said simply, frowning at his older brother. "I'm staying with you" He continued stubbornly. Robb sighed, he didn't want to have this conversation, he wanted his family at Winterfell where they belonged.

"Bran, you have to go back to Winterfell, there will be no argument about this." Robb stated sternly, hoping to sound like their father did when he wanted them to do as they were told. Bran instead glared at Robb petulantly.

"Why do I have to go?" Bran asked childishly, all but proving Robb's point that his brother was too young to be on a battlefield. In truth even if Bran were old enough and skilled enough to be of any use as a soldier Robb would most likely still send him home. He would not have any of his family in harms way if he could prevent it.

"Because I'm your older brother and I told you to. There needs to be a Stark in Winterfell and we both know that Rickon isn't mature enough to do so."

"But he has Maestar Luwin and Ser Rodrik. You can make one of them Castellan." Bran argued, moving to stand, Robb frowned at his brother harshly, Bran knew as well as he did that as long as there was a Stark in Winterfell then they would govern the land. 

"You know that I can't do that!" Robb retorted, matching his brothers movements, he could hear the frustration in his voice growing. "You will return to Winterfell with Ser Rodrik and the others."

"I'm not going to Winterfell, I want to stay here and help you! I have to!" Bran was near shouting at this point, though his voice sounded more desperate than angry. Robb shook his head at his brother.

"Bran, you have to go back to Winterfell. You aren't old enough to be a soldier, I can't worry about you while there's a battle going on." Robb said resolutely.

"I don't care!" Bran shouted, looking haggard and desperate. "It's my fault that Father and the girls are in trouble!" Then as if to himself Bran whispered, "I need to make it up to them." With a sigh Robb got on one knee and pulled his brother into a hug.

"None of this is your fault, Bran. None of it." Robb let out another sigh, he knew he wouldn't be able to send Bran home, his brother would fight with him until they were both blue in the face. "You won't participate in any battles." Robb stipulated, "And you're going to practice sword fighting and archery with someone every day." Bran only nodded in agreement. Robb pulled away from the embrace and stood. "Finish your food. I'm going to speak to Mother."

 

As Robb walked to meet with his mother he thought about his conversation with Bran. He wished he could send his brother back to Winterfell, but Bran was so riddled with guilt over having kept the Kingslayer's secret that Robb worried what would happen if he were left by himself in such a state. He might have Maestar Luwin and Ser Rodrik in Winterfell, but Bran needed his family in a time such as this. Robb had failed to help Bran before he had left Winterfell, but he wouldn't fail his brother again.

 As Robb approached his mother and Ser Rodrik he saw his mother looking at him suspiciously. "Where's Bran?" She asked curiously.

"He isn't going back to Winterfell." Before his mother could reply Robb rushed to finish, "We can't send him back, he feels to guilty for his hiding the Kingslayer's secret. I fear that sending him back will only serve to worsen his anxiety." Lady Catelyn stared at him for what felt like an eternity before letting out an aggrieved sigh.

"He is not to leave the camp without my permission. He will not fight in any battles, and that wolf of his is to be near him at all times." Lady Stark demanded sternly, Robb nodded and promised her that he had already told Bran that he wouldn't be participating in any battles. Turning back to Ser Rodrik, Lady Stark nodded, "Please tell Rickon that we'll all be home as soon as we can."

"Of course, My Lady. I look forward to your safe return to Winterfell." The knight then went back to preparing for his journey.

"Have you thought of who will be training Bran while we march south?" Robb's mother didn't sound very pleased at the idea of Bran doing any sort of training while the traveled, but Robb believed it necessary, should the camp ever be attacked. Robb shook his head no, he thought  that Theon was the most obvious choice, he had been helping Bran with archery before he had left Winterfell. And it was someone whom Bran was already familiar with. However while Theon was excellent archer, he wasn't a knight.

"Ser Rodrik was better than all three of us together with a sword. I might have Theon teach Bran somethings about archery, but I think Bran needs a proper knight for a teacher." 

His mother sighed from beside him, "Well you're certainly not at a loss for them."

 

* * *

 

 

Jaime Lannister was sat with his hands bound inside a cage, in his entire life he had never imagined feeling so humiliated. Yet despite he imprisonment Jaime was able to find some joy, today he had found out that Ned Stark had been executed for treason.  Jaime found himself being quite pleased when he had overheard that bit of information from two gossiping levies. The man had always been a judgmental prick and Jaime could hardly bear to be in the same room as him, so his death caused no grief for the Lannister Knight. While the entire camp of Northmen mourned their fallen Liege Lord, Jaime smiled to himself, believing that he had in someway found a victory after his capture.

However, whatever joy Jaime had taken in Ned Stark's death was stripped away when Brandon Stark came walking towards his pen in the middle of the day looking absolutely destroyed. His eyes were puffy and red from the crying that the boy had undoubtedly spent the entire day doing, he looked paler than usual, and if Jaime had to hazard a guest he likely hadn't eaten yet. Even the boys direwolf looked depressed, its head towards the ground and its movements slow and lazy. "Hello, Brandon!" Jaime greeted with false cheer in his voice, "Come to visit your old Knight have you? I must say you've been doing a rather poor job lately, you haven't brought me my meals in days." The look Jaime received for his japes rivaled any look of disdain that Lord Stark had ever given him.

Bran looked as though he wanted to say something, he even opened his mouth, only to close it without saying anything. Instead he glared at Jaime with those puffy red eyes. His hand drifting idly to the neck of his freakishly large wolf.  "Why have you come to visit me, Bran?" Jaime asked when he'd decided he'd had enough of being stared at like a piece of art. Wordlessly the boy reached behind him and pulled out a small knife, probably better suited for cutting meat than killing a man.

"I thought I would kill you, because your bastard son killed my father." Bran explained, Jaime forced himself to ignore the pang of guilt he felt when he heard how raw Bran's voice was.

"Why haven't you then?"

"Theon caught me leaving the tent and saw the knife. Said Robb didn't want you harmed, I don't know why." Jaime could almost laugh at the confusion in the Stark boy's voice. As though he really couldn't comprehend why his brother didn't want Jaime harmed.

"So why come at all?" Jaime asked, Bran only shook his head in response. That actually did make Jaime laugh, that this angry, depressed boy had come to see him without any reason behind it. "Well if you figure it out do tell me."

"Bran," Came a new voice, Jaime looked past his former squire to see the Greyjoy boy approaching them. "Robb is in his tent, wants you there." Bran nodded and turned his back to Jaime, leaving without another word, his wolf trailing not far behind. "What were you saying to him?" Greyjoy asked once Bran was out of earshot. Now that he was closer Jaime saw that the Stark's hostage also looked quite worn out, his eyes weren't as red as Bran's but there were some signs that the man had done his own grieving. _What in the Seven Hells was so great about that man?_ Jaime wondered, _Even his damn hostage is upset over his death._

"Oh I was just regaling him with the days events, telling him about all I'd done whilst sitting in the mud." Jaime japed, anger flashed through the boys eyes and Jaime wondered if he would ignore his orders not to harm their most valuable prisoner. Instead the Greyjoy regained his composure and gave Jaime a cocky grin.

"Don't get too comfortable Kingslayer, we're gonna taken you south with us, so you can see your son's head roll down the steps of the Red Keep." Jaime rolled his eyes at the rebuttal. The threat was hardly worth any merit, Robb Stark would end up leaving him at Riverrun or in some other castle to rot away in the dark. Of course that was if Jaime's father didn't destroy the Northmen before they ever got the chance.

Jaime smiled to himself, thinking that this would be a remarkably short rebellion.


	8. Bran, Robb, Theon

Bran scrubbed his face as walked to his brother's tent. He didn't know why he had gone to see Ser Jaime, what did he want to do? He had nothing to say to the man, it was his fault that Bran was in the Riverlands. His fault that Robb and Mother were down here with an army. His fault that Father was dead, and the girls were in trouble! Bran let out an angry groan as he kicked the dirt in front of him, _Damn him! Let him rot in all the Seven Hells!_ Bran thought, he wanted nothing more than to drive a sword through the Kingslayers head. But he couldn't because he's too valuable a hostage. Bran wanted to scoff at the idea, that the man was worth anything.

"Are you alright?" Asked Theon from behind him, Bran had forgotten that he was there.

"I'm just tired." It was a half truth, he hadn't slept well the night before, he'd had another wolf dream. He'd seen himself sleeping in the tent right before he'd woken up. Bran was almost sure he was actually controlling Summer in these moments, but it didn't make any sense. When Summer come back from his hunt it had been the middle of the night, and afterwards Bran hadn't been able to fall asleep again.

"Your sure?" Theon was know crouched down to look Bran in the eyes, Bran had noticed him being kinder and less caustic in the days since he'd been freed from captivity. Bran wasn't sure why, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Theon had never been his favorite person in Winterfell, he would sometimes be mean to Jon about his parentage, and beyond that he generally acted like he was so much better at everything than anyone. Bran remembered one time when he'd swore that he could beat Robb and Jon both in a duel with one hand behind his back. This had led to a quick defeat that Bran and Arya had laughed at for the rest of the day.  Bran gave Theon a nod which seemed to satisfy him. "Come on then, Robb needs to speak with you."

When they had arrived at Robb's tent they found that he wasn't alone. With him was a man older than both him and Theon, wearing a chainmail and a surcoat with the Crossing on it. His hair was short and light brown in coloring, and he had a short well-trimmed beard. "Bran," Robb spoke a moment after his entrance, "Allow me to introduce Ser Perwyn Frey." He gestured to the man next to him, who gave a small bow and a polite 'My Lord'. "Ser Perwyn is going to be instructing you in the sword, as per our agreement." Robb explained.

Bran gave his brother a nod before turning to Ser Perwyn, "Thank you, Ser. It will be an honor to serve you." The Knight gave him a small smile before shaking his head lightly.

"You will not be serving me, My Lord." He explained, "I will be teaching you, yes, but you are not to be my squire." Bran was surprised that there was no malice in his voice. Bran did not think many knights would be willing to train a person without them being their squire, and if what few things he'd heard about Walder Frey were true then it was even more surprising that one of his sons was willing to do so.

Before Bran could reply to the knight, Robb stepped forward and spoke in an authoritative voice. "You will spend at least three hours training with Ser Perwyn everyday. Then you will spend another three hours with Theon practicing Archery. You are to follow all of their instructions, do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord." Bran replied, not realizing that he had used his brother's title as he had whenever Father had used the same tone.

"Alright then," Turning to Ser Perwyn Robb said, "I leave my brother in your care, Ser Perwyn. I have some important matters that require my attention." And then Robb left the tent, receiving anther polite 'My Lord' from the Frey Knight.

 

Ser Perwyn led Bran outside of the camp and into a nearby wood. "There's a clearing not too far from here. We can train here without having to worry about interruption from anyone in the camp." The Knight explained. Bran didn't say a word as he followed along, looking at the bundled cloth in Ser Perwyn's hand. Bran could see the hilts of two sparring swords sticking out of one end. Bran felt himself well up with excitement as they reached they clearing. He'd always loved sword practice in Winterfell, and the few times he had trained with Ser Jaime had been some of the most fun he'd had while in King's Landing.

"Are you ready, My Lord?" Ser Perwyn asked as he unwrapped the swords. He handed one of the swords to Bran and took a few steps back.

"Aye." Then without another word Ser Perwyn launched forward and attacked. Bran barely deflected the blow before making a strike of his own. Ser Perwyn easily countered before swinging his sword down on Bran's head. Bran quickly side stepped out of the way of the blow. But Ser Perwyn swung again striking Bran hard in stomach.

"You'd be dead in a real fight." Ser Perwyn noted idly. Bran glared at the knight before lifting his sword and attacking the man once more. They deflected each others blows for a bit longer this time before Ser Perwyn thrust his sword towards Bran, stopping less than an inch from his stomach. The Knight gave him a look that said 'Dead'. They took a few steps back from one another before Bran rushed forward again, and once more he traded blows with the Frey knight before Ser Pewryn dodged a swing and tripped Bran, sending him to the dirt. "You'd do better to think a moment before charging forward like that." The Knight advised.

Their next fight lasted longer than the last three, Bran felt as though he was gaining the upper hand. As the clacks and clanks of the swords hitting one another filled the clearing Bran pressed forward towards Ser Frey. When he found a good opening Bran attempted to disarm Ser Perwyn and push him to the ground, as Ser Jaime had taught him. Unfortunately he'd not thought about how much more a grown man would weigh compared to the other squires in King's Landing. Having put himself right against his opponent Bran was forced to the ground once more.

"What was that move?" Ser Perwyn asked as he helped Bran to his feet. Bran opened his mouth to answer but stopped, he couldn't say that Ser Jaime had taught him that move, Robb and Mother didn't want him to have anything to do with the man, he couldn't imagine their anger if they knew he'd tried to use one of the man's techniques.

"It's supposed to knock you over, Ser Rodrik taught it to me just before I left Winterfell." He lied.

"Well I think that's enough for today." Ser Perwyn held out his hand for Bran's sword. "Your Ser Rodrik was certainly an excellent teacher." He'd said as they went back to camp. "None of my brothers would have been able bold enough to attempt that when they'd been your age." The knight praised, Bran felt like it should have made him happy. Instead it just made him feel guiltier.

 

* * *

 

 

Robb sat in his tent staring down at the map before him. He had spent hours debating with the Lords as to what they should do. Lord Umber had suggested riding towards Lord Tywin's main encampment as he had before. Robb had dismissed that idea, they didn't have near enough troops. Lord's Galbart and Robett Glover suggested riding south to join with Renly Baratheon's forces.  This was a better idea by far, yet they'd only relieved Riverrun from the siege a week ago. They needed to be sure that Tywin's men wouldn't immediately come and taken the place of his son.

"Robb?" Came Bran's voice from outside the tent.

"Come in, Bran." He called and his younger brother and Theon came into the tent, both carrying short bows. "How did it go?" He asked, looking up from the map. Theon was smiling, but that didn't surprise him. Theon was always smiling about something or another. Bran however was smiling, a sight that gladdened Robb. His brother had done little smiling since they'd heard of Father's death. Robb realized that he hadn't either.

"The Little Lord's improving," Theon praised, "Not missing the mark like he was when you and Snow tried to teach him." Theon added, ruffling Bran's hair as he walked around the table to look at the map. Robb held a laugh at the look of irritation on his brother's face. Bran had confessed a couple nights ago that he was confused by Theon's sudden warmth and kindness. Robb chuckled at the comment, he'd asked Theon to be kinder to Bran when they'd released him from the Kingslayer, worried how his younger brother was doing. According to Bran the new and unprecedented kindness was 'really strange'.

"Have you decided on a move yet?" Theon asked, pulling Robb from his thought. Robb shook his head, he had no idea what he was to do.

"We need to make allies, we can't take the fight to Tywin Lannister with just our forces. Renly has the most troops, but he also isn't the rightful King."

"So you think we should declare for Lord Stannis?" Bran asked, speaking for the first time since entering the tent. Robb sighed, he wished this were a decision as easy as who had the best claim.

"Stannis has the best claim, and he's actually fought in a war before, unlike his brother." Robb explained, "But he doesn't have the numbers, and if we ally with him we may end up having to face Renly and the Reach when we're done with the Lannister's." He shook his head, if the damned Baratheons hadn't started fighting each other things would be so much simpler.

"So what are we going to do?" Bran asked, Robb could almost laugh at the use of the word 'we' as if Bran would be included in the planning of battles and alliances when he wasn't even meant to be here. "We could sue for peace." Bran suggested, "We trade Ser Jai- I mean the Kingslayer for Sansa and Arya." Bran had done that a lot in recent days. He seemed to think that referring to the Kingslayer by name would get him in trouble. Robb wouldn't punish him of course, but if Bran would prefer to think of the man as being only the Kingslayer Robb didn't see any reason correct him.

 "They'd never accept!" Theon exclaimed before Robb could reply. "We didn't have the Kingslayer when they executed your father, Lord Tywin won't hand them over for his son and a few minor lords." Robb pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew that there was no way the Lannisters would ever accept peace.  Especially now that Bran was back. If the Queen Regent thought that he had told anyone about her and her brother's incest then she likely wouldn't end the war till she was sure anyone who could know the truth was dead.

"But we have to try." Robb admitted, to the shock of both Bran and Theon, "If there's a way where we can end this without further bloodshed then we have to make the attempt." As he looked back down at the map, Robb tried to ignore the feeling of his friend, and his brother staring at him.  Robb forced himself not to think about how badly he wished his father were here. He needed to be the man his father had raised him to be, not a scared boy.

"And if they don't accept?" Bran asked seriously.

Robb looked up from the map, "Then I'll march on King's Landing and remove Joffrey's head from his shoulders."

 

* * *

 

 

"The King in the North! The King in the North!" The cheers of the soldiers echoed throughout the camp as Theon made his way to his tent. Robb and Bran had returned to their tents, both looking far too serious for Theon's liking. Robb had just been declared King of the North! Why were they not celebrating? _Robb's always so serious these days, if he's not careful he might end up forgetting how to smile like Snow did!_ Theon laughed at his own jape, he wondered if maybe he'd had a bit too much ale during the celebrations. Then he laughed again, what did it matter? The Starks were royalty, like they were in the old days. They were going to march on the Red Keep and retrieve Sansa and Arya.

Except they couldn't just march on King's Landing, that would be far too dangerous, they'd need to go through the Blackwater, and they would need ships. Theon let out a groan, he was too drunk to be thinking so seriously on such things. With a sigh he decided to see if he couldn't find a willing lass, a band of Silent Sisters was camped not too far off, he wondered if they would be so silent when Theon took one to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was our first glimpse of Theon as a point of view character, it was short but I mainly wanted to show that he would be one of the POV characters, as well as show the first formings of his plan to go to Pyke. 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it, even if this is a shorter chapter.


	9. Bran, Jaime, Theon

"I don't trust Lord Greyjoy because he is not trustworthy!" Bran watched silently as Robb and Mother argued. Theon had suggested to Robb that he send Theon to Pyke and enlist Balon Greyjoy's ships for the war. Robb seemed to think it was a good idea, but Mother was fervently against it. "Your father had to go to war to end his rebellion."

"Aye, and now I'm the one rebelling against the throne." Robb replied, "And before me it was father, you married one rebel and mothered another."

"I mothered more than just rebels." Mother chided, "A fact you seem to have forgotten." She looked more exhausted than Bran had ever seen her, even when on days where Rickon couldn't be fussier, or when Arya and Sansa would argue for hours on end, she had never looked nearly as tired than she did standing in Robb's tent right now.

"If I trade the Kingslayer for two girls my bannermen will string me up by my feet." Robb looked tired, desperate too. He didn't show it easily, but Bran could tell that his responsibilities were weighing on him, especially since he'd been crowned. He never showed it before his bannermen, and even right now he seemed a bit guarded, but Bran knew that he wanted Mother to approve of this plan. She wouldn't though, and while Bran wanted to help Robb, he couldn't. Theon's plan gave him an uneasy feeling, and Bran didn't think it was wise to ally with a house they'd been at war with barely a decade ago.

"You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands? And what about Arya, I haven't heard a word about Arya. What are we fighting for if not for them?"

"It's more complicated than that! You know it is!" Robb shouted, stunning all three of them. Bran had never heard Robb shout at Mother, not ever. Rickon had when he was barely older than a babe, and Sansa and Arya would shout at anyone when they were fighting with one another. But Robb had said a word against their mother in his entire life.

"Robb," Bran spoke for the first time that evening, "Theon was kept at Winterfell as a hostage, so that Lord Greyjoy would not rebel a second time. If he hasn't rebelled out of fear of losing his only successor then is it really wise to deliver Theon to him?" Robb stared at Bran for a moment, as if considering the words that he was saying, out of the corner of his eye Bran could see his mother doing the same.

"What are you saying, Bran?" Robb asked. "Theon would never betray us. If his father planned to do anything he'd stop him, he'd warn us at the least." Bran wished that Robb was right, that Theon was as completely loyal as Robb believed him to be. But Theon talked about Ironborne culture all the time, he was so proud of it even though he'd been raised in the North for over half his life. Bran feared that if it came between Theon's loyalty to Robb, and his loyalty to his house, Theon would choose wrong. He told Robb so, but he vehemently denied such a possibility. "Bran, you don't have any idea what you're speaking of. You're a boy, you should be in Winterfell, with Rickon."

"As should I." Mother said, interrupting their argument before Bran could angrily retort at Robb using his age against him. "I want to go home, it has been months since I've seen Rickon. Bran shouldn't even be here."

"You can't go to Winterfell." Robb told her, shocking her and Bran both.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Rodrik is with Rickon, as well as Maestar Luwin. Tomorrow you'll ride south to the Stormlands." He explained.

"Why in the name of all the Go-"

"Becuase I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon. He's rallied an army of one hundred thousand, you know him, you know his family." Bran saw Robb's plan, he had made his decision about who to support for the Iron Throne. Mother tried to argue against her being sent, saying that she hadn't seen Renly since he was a boy. Robb countered that he couldn't trust anyone more than her, adding that with the combined might of the North and the Stormlands there was no way the Lannisters could win. Mother finally relented under the condition that Bran accompany her, Robb agreed easily. As Bran and Mother made their way to leave Robb called him back.

"I understand what you were saying about Theon." He explained, "I do, but you have to trust him, and me. Theon would never betray us, he loved Father, and he cares about the girls as much as we do. He'll secure us two hundred ships, and we'll seem like more valuable allies for Renly."Bran nodded, he knew that he wouldn't be able to convince Robb that this was a bad idea, he could only hope that his fears were unfounded. "There's something else." He said, a small smile passing over his lips, as he moved to a chest in the back of the tent. "Your thirteenth nameday will happen while you're away with Mother.  I talked to Theon, he and he said that you're coming along nicely with your archery, so I had this made for you." He got up from the chest and turned around, a white bow made from Weirwood in his hands.

 "Robb..." Bran didn't know what to say, this was one of the best gifts he'd ever received in his entire life. "Thank you, so much!" Robb laughed and gave Bran a warm hug. When they pulled away Bran looked back at the new weapon in his hand, it was slightly heavier than the shortbows that Theon had been having him train with, and the drawstring would probably be harder to pull back as a result. But none of that mattered to Bran, he'd just have to practice with it and grow stronger. "Thank you, Robb." He said again, unsure of how to show his gratitude.

Robb smiled back at him and patted his shoulder, "I expect you to practice with it while you're in the Stormlands. Ser Perwyn will go with you and to make sure you don't slack off." He teased. However as quickly as he'd smiled it was gone, replaced by a serious look that Bran thought marred his brothers countenance far too often these days. "You'll take care of Mother won't you?"

"Of course." Bran didn't need to ask what Robb meant, he saw as well as his brother the stress that their mother was under. They also knew that the journey to the Stormlands had potential to be dangerous, the chance of passing an enemy retinue could not be ignored, and war made bandits more confidant than they'd usually be around large parties. Robb seemed satisfied by his answer and wordlessly turned back to look at the map on his table. Taking this as a sign, Bran shouldered his new bow and left the tent, thinking he had one person to speak before he left on the morrow.

 

* * *

 

Jaime sat in his pen more bored than he'd ever felt in his entire life. Robb Stark seemed determine to make good on his promise to drag Jaime from camp to camp. It was exhausting, not to mention humiliating. There was mud in parts of Jaime that he could have lived his entire like without having had mud in. The worst part was that it was difficult to sleep because he was chained to a post.

For the time being though, it seemed that Jaime's boredom would be temporarily relieved. Bran was walking towards him, a bow on his shoulder and his humongous wolf in tow. Jaime hadn't seen the boy since the day they'd found out about Ned Stark's death. Now though, in the dead of night, the boy was walking straight towards Jaime's cage, a serious look in his eyes. "Brandon!" Jaime greeted, "It's been far too long. I understand you're a prince now. Your family is almost starting to mirror mine." The Lannister Knight rambled, "Let's see, you're brother would be Joffrey, that would make you Tommen, you have an extra Myrcella, and an extra boy..." Jaime trailed off.

Much to Jaime's disappointment Bran didn't react to Jaime's goading. He only stared at Jaime curiously, "Leave us." Bran ordered the guard, there was a brief pause before the order was followed, but soon it was just Jaime and his squire. "My brother sent terms to your sister yesterday." Jaime nodded, Robb Stark had come and told him so to his face. "She isn't going to accept is she?" The boy asked, Jaime had to suppress a laugh. Despite how serious and grown up Bran was attempting to sound, he still was a scared boy, worried about his family.

"I wouldn't think so. Especially not with your brother calling himself King." Jaime answered, "Besides, your brother's only won three battles, he isn't Aegon the Conqueror just yet." Bran frowned at him, Jaime wasn't telling him what he wanted to hear and it was bothering him. "Don't be so upset, Bran. When my father kills your brother and your mother I'll keep you on as my squire. You can grow up to become my replacement on the Kingsguard, make sure that your sister is well protected from any other rebelling houses." Jaime promised, smiling as the young Stark's face twisted in anger, his hand tightening on his bow.

"And maybe I'll follow your example and become the next Kingslayer." Bran replied, his voice dripping with contempt. Jaime couldn't help but smile at the retort, the idea of a Stark holding the title Kingslayer was too great to do anything else.

"How proud your father would be to hear you say so." Jaime mocked, and as Bran's scowl deepened his direwolf let out a low, menacing growl. The beast was past Bran's waist at this point, Jaime wondered how he could possibly rein the beat in.

"Say one more word about my father, Kingslayer, and it'll be the last word you speak." Were there not a locked door between them, Jaime was sure that the boys wolf would be inches from Jaime's face.

"My apologies, Prince Brandon." Jaime said with false sincerity, and without another word between the two the Stark boy left Jaime, letting him return to his incredible boredom.

 

* * *

 

 

Theon had been packing for his journey to Seagard when Bran approached him, he smiled when he saw the boy. "Good morning, Bran. Come for some target practice before I leave?" To Theon's surprise Bran shook his head, and for the first time he noticed the serious expression on the boy's face. "What's wrong?" He asked, all joking gone from his voice. Robb had told Theon to take care of his brother while he was with them in the camps, and Theon had quickly accepted the responsibility.

The seriousness from Bran's expression turned to nervousness as Theon asked the question, "Can.... can you not leave for Seagard?" Bran asked meekly, Theon stared at him for a moment. Anger quickly rose up within him, did Bran not trust him to stay loyal? It was bad enough that over half the lords in Robb's army didn't seem to trust him for the crime of being Balon Greyjoy's son, but Bran didn't trust him either? He had been Lord Stark's ward since before the boy was born, and now he was suddenly untrustworthy?

When Theon looked at Bran's face though, all his anger and indignation faded. However hard he was trying to hide it, Bran was scared of something, and whatever had scared him had brought this question on. "Bran, why don't you want me to leave?" Theon asked more gently than he'd ever spoken to the boy in his entire life.

Bran hesitated for a moment before asking, his eyes flicking from Theon's to the ground, "You..... you can't tell anyone." He said after a moment, "Promise me you won't tell anyone." Theon nodded his head, and promised Bran that he wouldn't speak a word of their conversation to anyone. "I'm worried about Robb." He explained, Theon gave him a confused look.

"What's wrong with Robb?" He asked.

Bran returned the look that Theon had just given him, "You haven't noticed? He's so stressed by all of the planning and fighting, and it's only gotten worse since people started calling him King in the North." Bran paused, "Mother and I are leaving for the Stormlands today, Robb wants to secure an alliance with Renly Baratheon, please wait for us to return before you leave for Pyke." Theon was surprised by this news, he hadn't seen Robb yet today, he'd intended to say goodbye just before he left. If Robb was able to gain Renly's help then he'd have more than twice Tywin Lannister's numbers.

"What does any of this have to do with my going to Pyke?" He asked, whilst trying to process all of this new information.

"I don't want to leave Robb here without anyone who cares for him." Bran said quietly.

"But everyone in the camp cares about him, they declared him their king." Bran shook his head at that.

"You know it isn't the same. He needs someone who's a friend, someone who he considers family." Theon thought back to the night that he and the Northern lords had crowned Robb.  _"Am I you're brother, now and always?"_

_"Now and always."_

Theon had sworn to stay by Robb's side, through victory and defeat. He couldn't be certain of anything that would happen while he was away, if Robb were to fall in battle, then Theon would fall beside him. "Alright, I'll stay with Robb until you and Lady Stark return." He assured. 

"Thank you, Theon." Bran replied, and Theon felt relief wash over him when he saw the fear leave Bran's face. However just before the boy turned and walked away Theon saw what looked like hesitation cross his features. Theon sighed, just as Bran worried for his brother, Theon knew Robb would be incredibly worried to have his brother and mother so far away.

He headed to Robb's tent, where he found the young King breaking his fast. "Shouldn't you be leaving soon?" Robb asked when Theon entered the tent. Theon paused for a moment to consider his excuse, while also noticing that even this early in the morning his friend looked high strung.

"I talked to Bran, he said that you're sending him and Lady Stark to bring Renly Baratheon to our side. He has the Tyrells and Redwyne's with him, I might be able to make my father forgive one grudge, but three is pushing the limits of even my charm." He explained with a smile, and he thought that he could see just a bit of his friends stress leave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering about Bran's talk with Theon, that will be explained in the next chapter. Which may be the very first chapter to feature only a single characters point of view. 
> 
> Until then, any comments, kudos, etc, are more than appreciated. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
